Snow Time

Marking the day by the piling snow.

Breakfast dusted the grass and speckled sidewalks.

Lunch soup, and a blanketed picnic table.

By tea time, pillows on lawn chairs.

Night baffled and warm, a world asleep.

 

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Erased

Overnight, more snow fell lightly by moonlight.

Enough to erase all traces of yesterday.

Enough for fox to mark his domain again,

for squirrel to forget, make me want

to fill white space with unspoken words.

 

The Blank Page

Just enough snow to make us believe

the day is a blank page and

on these faint lines we can write

a short story with a happy ending.

 

 

The window screen divides the scene

into thousands of pixels, and each one

will need to be filled, black or white,

on or off, here or not here.

A crossword puzzle we can never complete.