poem by: JG Collins
Written on Nov 04, 2016

It slips in at night. Stealthy and low at first.
A few flakes pick up speed as the first low howl can be heard.
Wind howls against the house, branches scratching at the window like a cat trying to get in.
Heavy wet snow can be heard plastering itself onto everything.
Lights flickering as if planning on going out.
Snow in the street lights, heavyweight thumping down trees.
Tree limbs crash down on wires, popping sounds and sparks as transformers are taken out.
Cities go dark as power is lost, houses grow cold as the furnaces die down.
Sleep finally wins out till mornings light awakes.
The storm does not abate.
Everything covered in white, an eerie and wonderful state.
Trees coated in snow, winds whipping the limbs around mimicking the haunting of ghosts.
Snow drifts piling high as others places scoured clear and clean.
The snow hammers down and will for hours more.
Smoke in the chimneys, stoking the wood stoves and fireplaces as homes warm back up relying on the old ways to stay warm.
As the storm slowly dies down the soldiers of winter shovels in hand begin to roust about, bringing some semblance of order back to the homestead again.
Kids in the yards warring with white ammunition as school was called off. Snow angels with Frosty dancing around the yard. Sleighing and yelling can be heard out in the fields.
Mom back at home prepares hot chocolate with marshmallow delights for all the frosty nose participants from this winters stormy night.


Tags: abstract,


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