snowfall

Some years winter comes later (well, later than today anyway). I had dictated this poem and transferred it to hold as a draft on WordPress a long time ago (probably March). I do believe it resulted from a real event (just how real you will have to read for yourself). In those days, there was no pit of Gasser Creosote Gas (which they just renewed on Wednesday with a brand-new truckload of oozing black logs), just a long meadow/field down to the little farmhouse by the distant highway, a lovely vista, especially sometimes when it filled with snow.

Twelve years ago…

snowfall

Like fog

the snow falls.

I’d missed its start,

and suddenly,

peeing,

looking out the bathroom window over the stool,

I thought that fog was settling

from the north

until I made out individual flakes

descending thickly, fast,

against the darkness of tree shapes

in yards down the hill.

2° below zero.

Has winter come at last?

Composed at the computer – 3:20 PM

Wednesday, December 30, 1998

Somehow, perhaps itʼs the snowfall that I should be shoveling away in about three hours time, it seemed appropriate to finally publish this little bit of non-verse today. At least it was a lot colder then than now. (“Then” with an e = a word indicating an event or time from the past. “Than” with an a = a word creating a contrast, or comparison, between two states or situations. I tire of reading one for the other on the internet. I really do. Tire.)

And, of course, WordPress is making it “snow” on the blog through the month of December, ending January 4. (Thanks, Dave, for the shovel joke earlier. Did you have to be so gol-durned prophetic?)

©2010 John Randolph Burrow, Magickal Monkey Enterprises, Ltd, S.A.

2 thoughts on “snowfall

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