Yesterday you huffed and howled
And flung fury against all that stood
Clinging and biting as if to say
I’m not yet ready to go away
Yet in your wake the sun now
Does poke betwixt the clouds
As your last grasp pops and drops
A wet slushy thud upon warming earth
Mud and crocuses soon your fate
Reflections
a late winter storm with heavy blowing snow battered our town. The trees in our yard accumulated 2 inches of snow on their northward face. , the sunlight leaches through a thin layer of clouds. The clinging snow melts and slides and drops into the melting mush below.
This winter we had precious few days of snow cover. Something I miss, and will likely continue missing more each passing year. Yes there might be a cold winter again, but that will be an anomaly.
Nothing compares to the first night after a heavy snow fall; when the clouds clear and through muted hush the twinkling stars look down from the heavens.