Bescarfed, bemittened
and otherwise bundled and beshoveled,
he stood in the elements, glared heavenward,
and cursed the driving snow for falling.
If but one flake, hearing,
had settled on his nose
and cried itself into oblivion
he’d have been satisfied.
But No!
Ten billion trillion zillion
blew about him unimpressed.
His curses fell on deaf flakes
which gently bore them down,
an added burden for his shovel.
Carmen Leone
© 2014
Image is from Wiki Commons: "A black and white photo of a light snowstorm starting up." Image by Solstrike, who has made it available under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license.
Nature in all of its indifference :) Here in NYC the snow likes to lie around and grow dirty and gross, defiantly. (I love the photo accompanying this poem - the snow has the feel of lightning.)
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're back. On a whim, I checked your blog; now I have some catching up to do.
Hi HKatz: So happy you had that whim! I'm still not posting really frequently, but I also am glad the blog's back.
Delete