Small fluffs fall through the morning...

No one can tell me what it is...

My brothers,

My sisters,

Like me are confused...

What is this fluff upon the ground?

It sticks to our paws and fur like new burrs,

Like we had in the summer...

But these are not burrs,

Nor ticks,

Papa said its too cold for either of these things...

I look up into,

The late afternoon sky,

It looks as though...

Can it be?

That...that...the sky is upset,

And its sending,

Frozen tears to us,

To us upon the ground!

My fur holds the small white crystals for a moment,

Then they vanish in a flash,

Yet soon the crystal's brother,

Or sister,

Lands near the spot of its invisble sibling,

And it too disapears soon after landing...

Papa laughs from upon his boat,

Where he watches us closly,

As my siblings and I explore this stuff below...

Its damp and deep,

The color of the special roses...

Rosie's father gave her mother last week,

On their anniversary...

I step around in the fluff,

It sends shiver down my spine,

And through my body,

From my nose,

To my toes...

I look at Papa,

And finally he anwsers...

"Snow!"