The Quiet Between Snowfalls

Soft flakes drift, the city fades—

a heavy hush that gently trades

raucous hums for muffled sound,

a quiet blanketing all around.

Traffic’s drone dissolves to space,

white settles, slow and full of grace.

The roof, the trees, the frozen ground—

wrapped tight in silence, deep and round.

Night holds its breath, snow presses down,

a world in white, without a sound.

Each flake a pause, a gentle shush—

the silence grows, then does not hush.