impromptu

amused by my muse never having even seen snow she saw in photos but never having ever felt feeling deprived of one of life's wonders her starving mind wanders i tell her facts about flakes never having ever one the same then throwing snow soft to shape but hard to take shaping men and women snow people frozen memories but I've said too much no sense of touch all this knowledge falling in flurries but my muse has a bucket list snow drifts across her paper she starts waving her arms wanting more words for me to extend knowledge for her lexicon of snow blizzardly blurred with her feet on the ground not able to fly knowing not now how strange to explain to her that she has opened wings of a snow angel