Not As Cold As Threatens
The streets are emptying, car sounds exhausted.
Stiff branches squirming widely won’t obey.
Vapors and smoke, seething from our houses,
Get whisked and yanked, but not out of harm’s way.
Snow drizzles pockmarks on the patio,
Ices over halfway frozen grounds;
A strong wind’s whining, like a high pitched vacuum,
Eerily mimics background furnace sounds.
To say it’s freezing outside may belie
Thermometers’ show of rising degrees,
Resembling when a futile keyboard try
Yields only pixelated snowy scenes.
On nights like this harsh winter hacks right through
The season’s normally less welcomed view.
Editor’s Note: Subtle personification threads through the imagery of this poem and resonates with many of us still caught in the end-of-winter season’s whiplash of warm/cold broken promises.
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