Snow Ugly!

Not a Poem

Not everything is a poem;

nor are all sights a picture.

When the blizzard came,

cameras blossomed everywhere,

recording intrepid journeys

to the mailbox, the sidewalk, the car..

immortalizing patio tables

in their fluffy white toques,

and trees and shrubs

bent and bowed under snowy burdens.

Not everything is a picture.

One arduous week later.

grimy mountains of ice

have erupted on streets,

on parking lots, on sidewalks.

Icicles dangle like Damocles’ sword,

ready to smite the unwary pedestrian.

And underfoot, snow angels and sleds

have given way to devilish commutes

and slippery side streets.

Not everything is a poem.