Outside my window, bare branches stretch
upward toward a deepening gray sky.
Daylight is only a suggestion, not fact.
The sun has been kidnapped, to be held
captive in an undisclosed location until
the clouds have their way and leave town.
I am in my bed, with my head elevated,
working and browsing on my computer
dictating and using voice commands.
Mom returns through the front door,
carrying today’s mail, steps into my room,
and I put the voice software “to sleep.”
“The sky is right and I feel it in the air;
if you were able to get out of that bed,
and could go outside, I’m sure you’d agree.
“Everything outside tells me one thing;
it may not be in the television forecast,
but we’ll get snow before this day’s over.”
About twenty minutes later, out my window,
snowflakes start and quickly accumulate.
I smile; Weather Mom has nailed it again.