Snow drift
The
lawns covered now. Winters white pouring down from the
gray. The driveway stares back with its dark wet spots, holdouts
against the storm, islands in the surging white, the sinking, lions fading with
footsteps. The trees birches and dogwoods, lift their arms to catch the
flakes, snow, twisting and swirling , blinding,
stabbing at the whites of my eyes. It stabs my skin with tiny flakes.
Garrick stares
out the window wondering when it will end. His car is half buried in the
drive, wind bellows burying it deeper so as to make it impossible for him to
leave for the long drive back to his new abode in
Everything
shimmers in a cold bright, street lamp heavy with icycles ready to drop like a
ton of knives.
I
watched the headlights pass, sinking into the the white.
The wind
whirling around this house pulling each branch across the aluminum siding,
freezing us in this moment in time, and strangely, in the back of my unhurried
mind, I pray for more snow that will keep us in this moment forever.