Wednesday, November 1, 2017

The First Snow


The familiar becomes a gray
ice sea and we accelerate,
uncertainly steering our now,
unfamiliar boats into
bobbing ups and sliding downs
over pressed waves of snow.

Waving arms admonish from the
road side. The trees are thrashing
creatures of resistance watching
their gray trunks disappear in
the thickening white.

And the snow continues a
ponderous, unstoppable fall,
like when you open the door,
and someone, known but silent,
steps inside and stands waiting,
while you think, well, what
do I do now?

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