Snow Poem by Christopher R. Kennedy

We’re all Honey Nut cheerios in a grand bowl of skim milk
An ocean of whiteness that stretches to the horizon
Gray sky black trees red people and this white ocean
That stretches to the horizon

Rooftops glazed with vanilla icing—or is that snow as well?
Trees, darkened by the blinding light, cloaked in ice
Birds and squirrels scurry and burrow in the snow like children
Hiding a secret

The sun frozen into the cool gray sky, radiating chilled white light
It shines through icicles and snakes around the world like an
Interpretive dancer with a flowing white dress, leaving twinkles
On the spots where it kissed the ground

Leave your warm house and pounce in to the white world
Lift a handful of snow to your chapped lips with red, embarrassed hands
It ought to taste like Christmas and coffee sweetener and jubilee
Instead it tastes like cold concrete, and shredded paper

But you don’t mind—life isn’t a post card after all
It’s just there—it just is—although it really is beautiful
And so you taste the snow in the middle of the white ocean
That stretches to the horizon