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.
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