Snow twirls through the air beyond the apartment,
Sewing a delicate crystal wedding gown
Whose satin folds wipe clean the city’s slate.

The promise of a new beginning
Dances on the arctic winds,
Chasing Jack Frost ‘round corners and down subway grates

Until even the metropolitan Scrooges
Can taste the change in atmosphere—
A pure and unspoiled piece of the world

Which makes the roasted chestnuts so inviting,
The crooning of Frank Sinatra ever more pleasant,
And gives the harried businessmen pause.

This ethereal piece of the world,
Which sweeps the city once a year
To point our hearts’ compasses due North,

Is the best gift of all—
One that doesn’t come from a retail store,
But from a kind old man with a great snowy beard.