About Me Poetry

Slow Snow

A week ago we were hit with another snow storm.  20″ in a few days, and more on and off this week. First Friday will again be postponed to March.

The snow has been humbling, has made me slow, has made me more thoughtful, appreciate and concentrate on what I am doing. Being slow makes me conscious.

Our landscape is beautiful, our house set in a new landscape that is now at the clearing edge of a forest. The white forest looks like a land of baby’s breath, the hills are quieter, close, one color over the grave bumps and freshly tilled earth.

Neighbors are jolly, hellos are carried over the white landscape so easily, more pronounced and articulate, nothing to compete. We help one another and meet new people who live so close, we aren’t in a panic just a little stuck.

The snow falls in my favor, rolling out from my high and open windows like a sled pouring from the first story, covering the brick and sills meant to protect me from the ground and sky, now all blended into one white blanket. The sky has piled up, begins swirling in the middle of the street when I walk it is like someone walking beside me. I can see the wind and think it is still snowing, the diamonds crackling in the air, catching the moon on a clear night.

My neighbor’s freeze-dried flowers, the sandy snow covering a hilled layer of ice up to the top where you can peer over main street and most of the county from the vantage. The courthouse like a mountain on top of a mountain.

Driving is even more fun, driving through tunnels of snow as I make my get away to the highway.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s