White fluff donning rooftops
Coming down like
Heaven's frozen tears
Nothing untouched
A church stands steadfast
Green peaks atop tan brick
An old world look
Street lights become beacons
When the whiteout begins
Cars still fly by
No worries for the weather
Everyone hurries
While black ice looms under tires
The deadliest of winter's gifts
Sheets of snow
Slide from awnings on store fronts
Creating a perfect day for one lucky person
Curbs cupping dirty slush
Created by filthy underbodies
Break dust
And leaky oil pans
Yet overnight
A new layer laid
Everything bright white
When morning comes
Until morning comes
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