freshly fallen snow . creates blankets and pillows . but not for sleeping
behind the cyclone . fencing, the unwanted snow . calmly awaits fate
all the world would be . covered in a white blanket . if snow had its way
allow extra time . is what the snow is saying . but we do not hear
the field of white snow ends abruptly; the textures of the wall threaten
you can often tell how long something has sat by what’s sitting on it
everything lost can be found again; under the right conditions
the city quiets and everything slows down as the snow piles up
a coating of snow treats everything equally giving it beauty
nothing says winter quite like the stoic reaching of snow-laden boughs
uptown jack 