By: Sara Joy Davidson
I remember the first time I saw the snow
The bleak blanket of new
Glazed with a sheer coat of truth.
New and untouched
A blank canvas
With only the shadows
Of birch and elm
Swollen tan reeds whisper on the sidelines
Gossiping like catty old women.
The scarce sighting of a bird that lost it’s hope
And remained here
Alone and cold.
As the sun rises it heats the white robe of winter
And changes the tracks
Pressing it’s power down