Snow Moon

Lying awake in bed, midnight approaching, thinking too much, thinking about the moon, the Snow Moon, it’s shining tonight, and tomorrow at dawn, I hope to meet it as it sets, with its promise of heavy falling snows, or so I’ve read, I fear I hope in vain, as I just lie in the silence, in the dark, midnight passes, January ends, February begins, and my imagination takes me into snow falling fast and fat on a mountain trail, snowshoes laying tracks, in solitude, deep breaths, feeling flakes, feeling alive, relaxed, and then I’m falling into sleep, to awaken and rise at half past six, to meet the Snow Moon in the dawn, at seven, as it sets, sitting on a bank of cloud, over snowcapped peaks, seemingly hovering, just before it disappears, taking with it my snow hopes and fears, far beyond where I can reach