playing with snow

There’s nowhere to put the snow.
It piles up on street corners 
and car windows—
a weighted blanket pinning down restless cities that won’t sleep.
Your umbrella can’t help you.
Your boots won’t protect you.

Each snowflake is deployed as a warrior.
Baptized into its roller coaster ride 
with gravity—
formed into its infamous uniqueness 
by this free fall.
The blizzard is an all out attack,
an air strike of crystalline soldiers.
The snow dances through the skies,
blinding us on the way down.
Absorbing our exhaust fume pollution,
and clothing our cities with rest.

Some places grab shovels in an attempt
to clear streets and bike lanes,
but those piles always take longer to melt.
There are no shortcuts—
the snow is faithful until it brings
its good work to completion.

There is nowhere to put the snow.
The experts scramble
and car owners get stressed.
The building managers start snow plows
and government officials meet with press.

But without fail
and with no delay

whenever it snows 
the children play.

—JG