Snow Reconnaissance

Holiday Poems


The skies are clear and cloudless

no darkness hovering or moving fast

on winds that whip into place a

snow pattern full of frozen rain

and inches of measurement.


A calm winter is not my choice

for Christmas. White has its uses;

paper, diapers, the yard on

December 25th.


Eyes up ignore the weather

predictors, even though they 

seem to have gotten it right

this year. Gymshoes, not boots,

no hats or scarves. I miss my

winter socks. I miss warnings

about a flurry of snowflakes

in the forecast.


There is time. It is ten days

till Christmas and maybe, just

maybe, Mother Nature and Fater

Christmas will wake up and smell

the icicles. Maybe.







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