The Unknowing Snow


The unknowing snow
won’t stop parachuting down
and keeps on coming blindly,
pouring the ground a sky
of muffled white.

Hardcracked, the nylon-iced skin
a crust between
the cold-fluffed caress of winter
and the beating heart of submerged Earth,
which the whiteness belies.

Purring, the land
lies interred in the blankets.

Rabbits and foxes
hunker down,
snuggled in fur.
Their claws dulled and needless.

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26 thoughts on “The Unknowing Snow

  1. Brian – fantastically descriptive poem that captures that ‘silence’ that snow can bring….strangely enough I often think about the wildlife in these conditions- just huddled in…waiting for the thaw….in a way this poem could be a metaphor for our lives….sometimes our lives can feel like winter, cold, silent, and we sit waiting for warmer days ( but then again that could just be me being my usual miserable self!)

  2. Purring, the land
    lies interred in the blankets.

    Some are made for just this type of weather. I have a son that literally falls into the snow, embracing it and hates the heat and the sun and a daughter that runs in (and not bothered by) the 95 degree heat!

  3. Such beautiful sounds snaking their way through the lines in groups.
    Can we hear it one day?
    Yes, we forget about the inferno underneath us all.
    Sticking our heads in the snow – love the concept of the sky being poured down.
    A handful of words containing great subtle nuances.

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