no birds, no singing,
no sun or blue sky showing...
when will this storm end?
sleepy kitty cat
curled up warm by the fire...
"Shovel? Not my job!"
put on the kettle,
have a nice, hot cup of tea...
shovel? not quite yet!
the snow looks heavy
hate it when my muscles ache...
winter is not fun!
New York City and much of the East Coast experience a major snowstorm
Nature’s artistical show
Paints everything white
Palette is that of a snow
Totally children’s delight
No more trains or cars
Snow plasters the panes
No one is walking, bizarre
No one is flying the planes
Suddenly, home is the place
Job with remote’s the key
Fluttering heavenly grace
Boundless colorless sea
Beauty forever is cold
Virgin, daylong, is the snow
Gifts of dilemma, behold
Shovels, lockdowns and tow
February 23, 2026
From the coldest, blackest sky
I came ... without any warning,
So tiny, so intricate am I ...
There will be more by morning
Don't know where I will land
Don't know what town it will be,
Don't know who I will meet
Will they want to see me
When they wake bright and early
And notice from out their window,
A fresh coating of soft white
... A new season's first snow
But a short time, and we do melt
Away in three months' flurry,
A long time by some is felt
As for me ... why should I hurry
Tonight, I am slowly falling
Don't know where I will land,
Will I last the entire winter
Or disappear in one's hand?
home safe from the storm;
amidst shimmering whiteness...
treacherous beauty....
overwhelming white a seething blizzard all round… dangerous allure
Clouds stood clear of the gloomy,
yet so calm sky.
Small whispers of winter bounced
through people’s ears.
Nature kept its breath,
letting out the slightest of sighs;
its face so red,
finally let go of its breath.
As if a loud music had started,
awaking the clouds' deafening sleep.
Got them roaming over the world,
with a dark, crazed rage.
It starts with a shudder,
that turned to spat,
As the drops of water fell,
with a small little ‘Splat’.
Snowstorm over,
the Keeper opened the shelter doors,
Keeping his head low,
eyes downcast,
watching only people’s feet.
His Keeper heart could not bear
to see the eyes...
the forgotten ones
the homeless adrift
the crying ones
the yelling ones
Turning them out was he,
Another day for the streets.
Again.
Snowstorm over.
It’s quite a sight
To be rescued by a garbage truck
Before anyone or anything else with luck
Rises
So early this morning
After the big snow
Schools closed business delayed
Road uncut by any car
Birds sleeping in
The synapse of tree limbs white feathered with fins
Reaching out for one another in an apologetic wind
But those guys
One impossibly young the other impossibly old
Defiant
Or miserable
Is there a difference, these cosmic travelers?
Not making much money
But here they are
Unmoved by all our mythical possibilities
Holding to a relentless backend schedule
Swinging down up and through the drifts
They lift
Our buried bin to the automatic contraption
Right on time no matter what
Emptying again
Another week’s waste from all our lives.
grim starkness of snow
sturdy in its sleeted falling
willing a bleached landscape
a lushness
that chokes the rough field terrain
strides of power
as the fevered wind
spirals In an unexpected direction
inflates drifts like the arched back of a cat
whitening truant brown borders of decay
to bury even shadows
bare trees by fence lines slump like hollow men
in a protected sanctuary of cold
re-shaping confessions that slip
in winter chill extinction
Poem composed January 3, 2023
A white out
A snow bomb
Homes snow blanketed
Whited sepulchres
Cars abandoned
Stuck in snowdrifts
An arm sticking stiffly out
Above its embedded body
Deep in its shroud of snow
The wind howling and keening
The banshee's delight in its kill
With the thaw
will come the count
Under the full moon,
fallen snow has stretched the sky,
bathing me in white.
silence falls, flurries
damp whispers, sighs descending ~
breath embracing grace
A NEW HIKU FOOTLE TANKA Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
November 12, 2022
Afternoon Snowstorm in January
David J Walker
What else would I dream about
in January
When the chill is enough to kill
All incentive
And the north wind huffs its wicked breath
In a cruel Laugh
What else would I dream about except
a certain day in a
Far away June
The 10 O’clock sun blazing its tune to
The roar of the lawnmowers
Joining the song
Shorts and a t-shirt is all we had on
And new flip flops that knew
to keep time all along
the sweet smell of fresh mown grass
and the shrilled laugh of children flying
On swings that become wings
against a summer sky
What else would I dream about when
An ice storm sets in
except the
Cherry Icee’s we bought
At Gordon Moore’s drug store
For a dime
There was Cherry and Cola
Root beer and Limon Lime
We started to notice that
Girls were different
A mystery that would never be
Solved
What else would I dream about
in the concession
to an afternoon snowstorm
in January long gone
blizzards from the north
temperatures sub zero
frozen window panes
1/ 16 / 2022.
Haiku Winter contest.
Sponsor Tania Kitchen.
Syllable count poetrysoup.
cold front moving through
heavy snowstorm approaching
darkening shadows
grocery with empty shelves
setting up zig-saw puzzle
written January 14, 2022
A snowstorm blew in from the north last night
with blasts of frigid air pounding the loft hard,
paralyzing wind howling brought terrorizing fright.
In the morning I'm expecting a snow-covered yard
probably with banks of snow against the railing,
and roadways treacherous with ice frozen hard.
Lucky we will be if our car battery is not failing
and we can make our way to the local dispensary
though we cannot expect a trip smooth sailing
because the winds will still be flinging icy misery.
Wrapped in heaviest woolen coats and scarving
with heavy galoshes since the road is slippery,
In the new soft snow, our footprints are carving
for those tracing the path to the narrow lane,
They must hurry for imprints are quickly blurring.
On second thought, to go outside is most insane,
a snowstorm blew in from the north last night.
For those tracing the path to the narrow lane,
paralyzing wind howling brought terrorizing fright.
written January 13, 2022
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