snow muffles the sound of tires crunching over leaves
now softly resting across the wooden planks of the bridge
they have no crunch left, sodden in snowflakes, resting
for the long season ahead of crisp nights, sleet, sun
and snow skiiers as vast in number as the leaves
spread out across this bridge, settling into winter just
as skiis are being being waxed and hot boxed, fitted and sold,
flying out of stores, credit cards maxed out
snow is here, the muffled sound of skis carving
tracks through newly fallen whiteness.
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2 comments:
Snow is rare and wonderful in my neck of the woods. My favorate part of a snowfall is the thundering silance that accompanies the big fat flakes.
Yes, the silence provides us with respite from the insistent roar of daily life.
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