ramble in the blue realm

at first, the snowflakes fell – so light –

such random silver specks, in the blue realm,

we really couldn’t be entirely sure, that it was snowing at all

. . . or . . . if it was our breath:  hung, in the air, in frosty spittle commas,

that hooked upon brisk, flicks of breezes . . . and punctuated

the long winded road ramble.

but then, as the approaching dusk began to nail down

the spaces between the sentinel trees,

that guarded the dark forest, beyond the path . . .

the gossamer faint fall of flecks suddenly

escalated in an impassioned fervor of windblown bluster and fuss,

so that, we both were wildly impressed, and exhilarated,

by the histrionic billow and manic swirl

of white powder and sparkle dust,

that came – almost – out of nowhere.

until . . . the same thought flashed between us, that:

we had, in fact, dawdled since midday, aimlessly

traipsing the twisting trail . . . and so . . .

shrewdly, and with less than laid-back haste:  took off,

like two shots, through the squall in the direction of the cabin

– laughing with giddy gusto – when, at last, we came within sight of the door

. . . for, peril is invigorating . . . . . . . . . . . . when sanctuary is near. 

photo:  Winding Road – W. Bourke

© 2015 Wendy Bourke