With each morning’s sunrise, a gift:
a foot of fresh fallen snow,
untrodden and still. Once again,
we willingly kneel onto the
merciful blanket and carve
promises with our frozen fingers.
Matthew J. Andrews is a private investigator and writer who lives in Modesto, California. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Orange Blossom Review, Funicular Magazine, Red Rock Review, Sojourners, Amethyst Review, Kissing Dynamite, and Deep Wild Journal, among others. He can be contacted at matthewjandrews.com.
