Hope this brings a smile . . .

It is being a long wait until spring...

Beyond the unofficial start, when the geese return...
Past the official start, when the calendar decrees...
Gray skies, gray landscape,
Gray thoughts...

With no color in sight or in the forecast.
Instead, a city's Christmas decorations still hang
And the winter's detritus reveals itself as snowpiles slowly melt;
Those same piles now fuzzy with dried grass, leftover sand and shredded garbage
All pushed together and aside in the name of safe travel.

Sometimes, we can joke about it.
Sometimes, the gray swirls too close and a smile is painful.
And sometimes a kind, kind soul with nothing to gain
Brings a gift with the salad dressing to the table at lunch.
Just a simple sugar cookie, perfectly round and soft,
Not ordered, not requested. Just pure gift.
And one woman says to another, "Hope this brings a smile."
And both women do, and the gray retreats behind the edges of hope again.

No camera along to capture that precious cookie (I must learn to carry it always)
But I had these cookies back at the office (my latest attempts at the quest).
Hope this brings a smile.