MELTDOWN
This morning we woke to a black and white world:
Cars and rooftops, walks and road
Frosted in white. Every deciduous
Twig and branch, every needled bough
Of pine and hemlock coated in snow
Which the sunset last night gave a rosy glow.
Midmorning the drops began to fall.
Drooping pines again stood tall.
Our windows were streaked with watery streams.
Sunstruck icicles softened and gleamed.
By noon the parking lot was bare.
Winter was retreating here.
We can’t yet call it an early spring:
Let’s see what next week’s weather will bring.
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