Late snow should be more apologetic,
tentative, shamefaced,
a thin melting gauze
not a pushy, overbearing blanket.
Late snow should fall and be done,
spotty, wistful,
a drift of confetti
not a gloating pall.
Late snow should be warmer
clear, drippy,
a simple rain shower
not a frozen flash from the past.
#146
‘yes, I looked out the window this morning to a white world, sigh’
[…] Late Snow (lindastudley.com) […]
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You nailed it. Like opera, it ain’t over until the fat, white lady sings. A long Long Weekend indeed.
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