FIRST SNOW
I stepped from my doorway this morning,
to hear silence all around.
The morning noise muffled by the
crisp white blanket, which covers the ground.
The air is cold
and wind nips at my nose.
I walk softly,
each step crunching
as my feet sink into the
deep white snow.
The trail I leave behind
suggesting an unknown stranger
following me across the way.
The branches of the trees hang low
with their cottony burden.
In the distance,
I hear the jingle-jingle
of tire chains
as they cut through the crisp whiteness
on the deserted streets,
suggesting an awakening that
I felt in anticipation.
Soon, people will be hurrying
on to work-more exhilarated-
more refreshed,
by the clean white newness
that surrounds them........
A fresh new world beneath their feet.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
©12-01-1976
By Ms. Caroline
© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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