Birds are singing now;
Sun is out, snow fall has stopped.
A car slushes past.






Sleek mound in the snow
Curves and bends like a sculpture;
A car is beneath.

Falling white snow clumps
Detach themselves from the trees,
Land with a whisper.









The driveways are closed;
Dried lilacs are capped with snow;
Only cars make noise.

Descending snow clumps
Burst silently on the road;
Then whirling white wisps.









Gnarled one eyed tree stump
Stares dolefully through the snow
At endless whiteness.

Snow fills old washer
But it is already clean;
Just has to sit there.

Now the sun is warm;
Large snow clumps fall with a crash.
The icicles drip.