The Storm of New England
Decayed ivy trails holding on with its last grasp
There visible etchings left marks upon the brick
Where the wind ever so gently moves and wiggles
The remaining leaves
A reminder of the change that has surfaced
A winter storm has landed
And with a driving intensity
That gentle wiggle has blossomed
The skies have released its frozen nightmare
People fussing about
Trying to get home, with the forces
Hammering their windows
Cars skidding and screaming through the night
And there are those that gave up the fight
Abandoning their vehicles where they ceased
People on foot walk with heads tipped down
Fighting the driven snow
For those that made into their domain
That would shake off the weather and sigh of relief
To have made it home in one piece
Winter has laid its grip on Boston
And its magnitude can be seen
With white matter hanging is seasonal magic
On the limbs of trees
Obstructing views
Embracing walkways and blanketing homes
And looming a hush to the city streets
Winter’s born
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