Angels in the Snow

We took the children
to the park
to play by moonlight
in the newly
fallen snow
Crunching through
the layers
in pink fur lined boots
Annie asks
"What makes the snow
sparkle Mommy?"
She reaches down to
try to capture
the flecks of silver
in a handful of ice.
I tell her:
"The Angels were making
art,
then God cleared off the table:
Everyone likes glitter
Until you are the one
who has to clean it up."