26 Dec Poem: Snow Day for WalkAshland
12 hours of snow, still coming down.
Stay cozy inside or go out?
A poem for you.
Waking up in our house,
on the large spinning body called Earth,
feels cozy every morning,
rain or shine, hot or cold.
This morning feels different.
Light snow fell through the night,
now coats each branch and leaf,
each square inch
of dirt, deck and path
with a blanket of piled powder white.
I want to stay warm inside
as the cold, fluffy white, cottony flakes
drift and fall from the sky.
I also want to run outside
to knock snow off branches –
like the squirrels jumping
from one snow-covered oak to another,
scattering puffs of white in their wake.
I want to explore our frosty town
with auto and snow boots and camera,
to photograph every public artwork –
every artful color and shape blanketed, softened
and seen anew,
seen with snow day freshness.
No, I will linger a bit longer,
appreciating the frozen white world
from my spot under a blanket on a cozy white sofa.
Then surfaces my new urge to zip around town
on slippery white roads
to photograph every Ashland Tree of the Year,
transformed today by nature’s paintbrush
that has been dipped in a huge can of white paint.
There is still half a cup of warm chai tea
in my morning mug.
As I sip, the window view is enough.
My exploring and zipping can wait.
Today, I rest in appreciation of snow day stillness.
Today, my WalkAshland readers will have to settle
for a poem.