Snowfall, a poem for winter

Snowfall

 

 

It powders down

onto the heads and shoulders

of men, houses, and horses,

whitens the teeth

of picket fences,

lathers the bristled faces

of Northern forests.

It boughs down

to the outstretched arms

of trees, tongues of children,

the folded wings of sleeping owls.

Confettis down

past millions

of living room, bedroom,

office, train windows,

seen and unseen.

Swirls down

in great silence,

eloquence;

with pure, hushing,

comforting presence.

 

 

┬ęColin Goedecke

January, 2014

by Central Park

New York City