POEM: FALLING SNOW

Falling  Snow

In the embrace of

falling icy sugar snow,

under a street lamp’s

yellow-orange glow,

the snow of moment,

not obligation or challenge,

forms newly-pointed ridges

over crusted mounds

and sculpted heads

of grey, cast-off days.

And frozen ice-dogs

lying by the side

are comforted, too,

by this softer,

gentler shroud.

Yes, it's April up here!

I WROTE "FALLING SNOW" SOME YEARS ago after walking home one winter evening from work. The street was empty after a heavy snowfall; it was dark, but the sky had cloud cover that reflected lights from the city in a very soft, diffuse manner, almost like stage lighting. The wind was blowing; it was cold weather, but not harsh. I paused and looked around. And it's the kind of rare moment where everything stops or slows down, and you just breathe and take it all in. Would there were more such moments! 

The "frozen ice-dogs" were small mounds I saw by the side of the road that looked like small bodies covered in snow drifts; quick, cold graves. The B&W nighttime photo is one I took on another walk about, but I think it suits the poem's atmosphere of solemnity and peace.

Cheers, Jake.