Poem: Winter Squall

I accidentally got caught in a bit of a blizzard while driving yesterday. I took the photo at a rural intersection along my route and then wrote this poem today.

Silence simmers with suspense before

the sky hurls cyclones of snow downward,

spinning, they beat and moan against doors,

the gale screaming its melancholy chord.

I grip the steering wheel at ten and two;

I feel for the lane with my whole being.

Ghosts envelope car tracks in their grey-blue

veils, hiding painted lines from my seeing.

We are weak under nature’s fury:

blistering sun or numbing cold

A blizzard does not bow to 5G

In nature’s eyes, we’ve never evolved.

2 thoughts on “Poem: Winter Squall

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