This powder covers me
like blankets on a sleeping child
Shielding our eyes we walk with care
and curse something so beautiful and graceful
that creates so much havoc
All the while the powder gives in to persuasion
from the arrogant wind
and stacks itself in heaps and mounds
on a terrain that forgot
how cold it was last year
A contest entry
- Saturday Morning Coming Down - Ten Entries by CarolDesjarlais.
525 points, ended December 9, 2007, 3 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Very well done indeed and i'm with you as a part of the snow haters club.
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Really lovely penning...profound, poignant, and pulsing with beauty
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Thank you for your comment. I hate snow, and this is pretty much a piece on how beautiful it is, but how much I despise its existence.
-Ed.
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