The Snow
The snow falls down softly to start;
A peacefulness it does impart
And all through the night
A blanket of white
Keeps its pace like the beat of a heart.
By morning, the plows have come through,
Making paths with their salt and sand crew
But the bushes and cars
Still retain reservoirs
Of the fresh-fallen snowflakes on view.
Hours later, in snow boots with treads,
Come the parents and kids with their sleds,
Heading into the cold;
Such a joy to behold
From the warmth of our couches or beds.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2022
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