First Snow

Snow is always unexpected–
Like picking up my eldest daughter
to carry her to bed
And finding that she is almost as tall as I am
Or so it seems,
with her half-asleep feet knocking against my shins–

White everywhere
Leveling all the dirty, brown
Ditches of our towns
Raising up the low and trodden-down paths
of my daily walk through the back yard to the church
And humbling any plant that decided to venture out
that one warm week in November

Now every stone and living thing is prepared to cry out before it sleeps
All things made new,
Though only until the plow comes
Shredding the blanket into confetti,
Great piles of it that block my driveway

I, and the world around me,
with all the cars and work schedules and economic worries,
try to make this snow a nuisance to be endured
Like we do with Advent, or repentance, or the long, ongoing work of love

But none of it has succeeded yet
In bleeding from me the inexplicable
Joy, a smile I cannot suppress,
Even an eight-year old’s exuberance,
At a few, quiet snowflakes falling
In perfect symmetry under a streetlight


One thought on “First Snow

  1. I love that effectively conveyed imagery of snow. The virgin white snow that lies upon our yards, our streets – our entire state. The plow ruins such a glorified image of New England. All you can see is the dirt, the leaves, the mess …. all left above the snow. I hope we have some snow before the end of January. I miss it dearly. Thanks for sharing.

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