Snowing

It’s snowing and blowing; Anxiety’s growing. The sidewalks and roads may be slick. I’m waiting, equating My fear’s escalating With how much these flakes seem to stick. The trees, as they freeze Look so pretty, they please Every eye that takes time in observing. Those who rush through the slush Miss a picture so plush It’s a pity, though they’re not deserving. As hours devour The day’s waning power, I gaze out the window and worry, But bearing despairing At least isn’t sparing The beauty that’s born from this flurry.