They trickle, eager

[axtar]

It's (as if)
somewhere between the grumpy grey cloud
and the second star to the right
someone's nudged one of those
bargain bags of powdered sugar
off a sky-streaked table.
And so around, around, down
they trickle, eager
pressing a million cold kisses
to cheeks, hair, ankles, arms
any bit of soft skin
as if to leave (just a bit of) sweetness behind.

[First snow seen today! This calls for random verse.]