Still No Snow



Still no snow -

none in the air,

none on the ground.

I can picture it, though,

in my mind’s eye —

falling slowly,

just flurries at first,

and then faster,

big, fat flakes;

snowflakes with body

and texture,

the kind that land

on your outstretched tongue

and linger before melting.

The flakes swirl down

out of the cottony sky,

and pile up,

covering every surface

swathing ordinary objects

and fashioning them into

interesting, imprecise shapes.

The snow continues to fall,

in that strange

and utterly silent way it always does.

Sometimes, I sit near the window

and strain my ears

to hear it as it falls.

In this Winter of No Snow,

at least I have my memories.

I want some snow.



© Ellie Maziekien


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