It is snowing...

The kitchen light shines out to an early morning snowstorm.

A rectangle, bright against the ever changing pattern of white.
The house hums with sleep.
I gaze out the window, lost in the pattern
    as it moves with the wind.
For a second.
  For a minute.
    For a lifetime,
I wonder if you like to watch storms,
   or gaze at the summer stars.
Do I get my laughter from your side of the family?
The snowflakes seem to shrug,
  I don't know, as they move through the kitchen light.
I shut of the light, making sure I don't hit the switch
  for the garbage disposal.
   Don't want to wake the family.

I burrow into the covers.
My wife mumbles, "You OK?"
I find her hand and reply,
   "It's snowing."