Snowed Poem by anais vionet

It snowed last night which pleased me - but hardly enough - it just teased me.

The thin, white sheet of snow looked bright and fresh
the dull, browned hedges of fall became holiday dressed,
the air had a sharp, chill perfume and the ground a new, sparkling flesh.

Lisa, a New Yorker who knows snow, gawked at me as if I were insane,
'You're excited by *NOTHING*, ' she sarcastically complained.

I replied, 'When it snows there's a quiet solace, and the world looks clean and flawless.'

The weatherman is promising us a blanket of snow this weekend
and that would be nice, a storm of ice, to lock us in as the week ends.