Thursday, November 3, 2022

First Snow

Day 3, Poetry Day:

First Snow

November barely burst on the scene
when the first snow interrupted fall
with a warning: I am coming!
And came it did with vigor
but not with the frigid cold,
merely a few degrees below freezing,
just enough to turn rain into snow!

Even amidst the white, water-engorged flakes,
the trees with their golden, yellow,
and green leaves hanging on
for dear life still clamored
for just one more day of fall.

It was denied with a winter blast!

Some flowers, particularly roses,
are drenched with huge clumps
of white and puddles of melting snow
dripping onto the ground,
adding a bit of shininess to everything.

Even the green grass looks majestic,
a tinge greener beneath the trees
still full of leaves and acting
as an umbrella to some green spears
with a sheen of moisture dripping
so incongruously from the limbs above.

So far, the roads are moist, a bit dangerous,
the snow not sticking but melting
as each snowflake touches down,
disappearing like many 401Ks,
covering the fallen leaves, the grass,
the bushes, fence tops, and parked cars,
coating them with wet flakes of white.

It won’t be long, though, until the greens,
yellows, reds, and golds will be buried
in pure white fluff, causing us to forlornly forget
summer and its incessant heat.

The first snow laughs uproariously
at the rain, considered a cousin,
for its lethargy this past summer,
relishing the thoughts of one-upping it today.

For now, we can only watch
out the front windows,
melancholy seeping through our souls,
behind crumbled curtains,
or even as we sit in our cars,
staring out as our windshield wipers try
to keep up with the first snow,
its big flakes giggling as they fall,
lightly, delicately, unabashedly,
basking in its beauty, moistness, and freshness,
beckoning us to come out and play
in its new white vivaciousness.

Thursday, November 3, 2022

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