It started with the freezing rain,
the curse of winter time,
turning all into slick black glass
on every road you find.
Then came on all the pelting sleet,
pins and needles outside,
you can hear it as it hits home,
adding mass where it lies.
The skier wishes it was snow,
while drivers hide in fear,
linesmen get ready to go work
when outages appear.
They know branches are coming down,
the roads will be a mess,
the governor says please stay home,
being safe is the best.
The next day the world is transformed,
slick ice coats everything,
long branches bow under the weight,
Clad in crystalline sheen.
Like diamond melted on the trees,
catch light and sparkle bright,
a prism when the sun's rays hit,
flashing colors of light.
A tinkling sound as wind blows by,
thin ice cracks in the breeze,
like tiny hammers striking glass,
both scary and serene.
The cars idle as defrost runs,
ice much too thick to scrape,
some struggle to open the doors
while loudly cursing fate.
New icicles on power lines,
dripping down like a fringe,
where wind was strong they go sideways,
kind of a bizarre thing.
Driveways have become skating rinks,
ice shingles coat the roof,
the snow is now a hard concrete,
what once was soft and loose.
The great plains have their tornados,
earthquakes out in Cali
Florida has the hurricanes…
it's ice in the northeast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem