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