Richest Gifts

The richest gifts that I receive
glide through the trees on breath of wind.
The winter whispers, “I believe.”

This whirling snow paints ghosts, deceives,
dear memories in vision pinned,
the richest gifts that I receive.

With crunching steps, I can perceive
a lone bird’s whistling woodwind.
The winter whispers, “I believe.”

I wipe my runny nose on sleeves,
much to Dad’s quiet chagrin,
the richest gifts that I receive.

We pause in wonder, can’t conceive
such lavish silence, sound so dimmed.
The winter whispers, “I believe.”

Today, there’s nothing more to grieve,
save chapped red cheeks so sweetly skinned.
The richest gifts that I receive,
the winter whispers, “I believe.”

19-line villanelle