Snow Days Redux

New snow
is soft, fluffy
like marshmallows and clouds,
like goose down pillows and whipping cream;
but with a heavy freeze
and snow ages
like bleached
fudgesicles and beach towels,
like melted cotton candy and thongs
at a retirement home;
and when it rains,
there's slush
like city parks
when geese do not migrate,
like soap left too long in the shower
because you are afraid
to pick it up,
like mold;
and all melted,
winter's ugly side shows:
rusty lawn swings, brown grass, dead blooms
and gray widow makers
dropped in the last
wind storm.

But it's
early winter
weeks of blow and flurry
left before we can see spring's first
signs; before daffodils
tulips, robins;
before
temperatures
rise enough to wear no
no shirt and shorts in the garden.
While we wait, we putter
and dither at
nothing
meaningful as
if the second coming
is right around the corner and
we are left behind as
if we picked up
the soap.



Writer's Hood, the best poetry on the web,  at http://www.writershood.com/ 
Poets for Peace.... ¡Poemas sí, balas no!