3.16.15 Somewhere beneath the snow laden clouds I find myself counting

Out the back door the night remains
a comfy 28• the air I draw
far into my lungs
cold delicious with each breath

Standing in slippers, in
zipped up sweatshirt

I toss the

split tennis ball so

High in the air as the

pup leaps off the ground
landing in the deep snow
smiling happily to play

A small spring snowstorm
turns freezing rain
before my eyes the sky
lit as a backdrop of full moon

Somewhere beneath the
snow laden clouds and I
find myself counting
all my blessings here