Saturday, February 20, 2010


I like the snowfall, how it makes us stop,
Makes us stay where we were when it began
(If we are wise), how it can make us drop
Our plans and schemes, at least during its span
Of closed-down roads and endless, downward fall.
Late February, there's no holiday
Distracting us. It's winter, and that's all,
And it's enough. We've time in which to play
Within our minds. It's pointless to complain,
Get anxious, focus on some other place
Where we think we just really must be. Fain
We pause and contemplate th'actual space
In which we find ourselves, hemmed in by white
And drifted water, cov'ring so much blight.

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