Stella
There once was a blizzard named Stella
Too powerful for an umbrella
But she petered out
Losing all of her clout
Like a post-midnight-clothed Cinderella.
Her wind is still whipping around
But as for the snow on the ground
It’s in inches, not feet
Which must be bittersweet
For the ones who hoped she’d be renowned.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2017
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