New Snow
arrives flake by flake
preceded by a stillness almost audible
settling on the porch, the walk, the railings
trees, bushes, cars: the street
piling like bills, problems, subplots . . .
bottles in a binge
blanketing everything spreading its chilly sheet
And as this is Seattle and not Buffalo, New York
we pull on our cozy apparel
venture into this bright blinding purity
this alabaster anarchy
one to two inches is sufficient
to close schools and businesses
side streets and major thoroughfares
There will be pulled groins a plenty
slipped discs, sprained wrists
as we navigate this icy uncertainty
watch those better able to take a fall, fall
slide down hills on coffee can lids
watch dogs with black noses pierce the white
their pink tongues hang like used towels
cats inspect, reject, retreat
back to the heater inside the house
snowballs fly
snowmen rise like despots
and everyone will suffer a few good couple hours
before it begins to look gamy and worked over
and we will take it in tomorrow from big picture windows
cursing it and cancelling plans and preparing excuses
our moods darkening like the ice
like yellow bruises turning purple
like old snow
giving way
releasing darkness
allowing that life stuff
room to rise
—Larry Crist