Throughout the snow day
I keep going to the wind-
ow. The snow has made
the wind incontro-
vertible. My eyes get tired
of watching it work.
It’s all that matters.
Backed by wind, snow defaces
each familiar thing.
And yet the wind dies.
Its rage to cancel gives way
to still possibles.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Tom D'Evelyn
Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at tom.develyn@comcast.net. D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.
View all posts by Tom D'Evelyn
Metaxyturn Diaries 
One of your best, Tom. All the lines, the last which could have gone a number of ways making the poem, “familiar” being both exact and a touch of warmth. — Paul
LikeLike