Third February Blog


Third February Blog.


Light flakes of snow
Whispering down,
Landing on eyelids,
Whiskers of hair
That peek out
From the scarf,
Covering her head,
A light breeze
Moving the strands,
Making them flutter,
All covered in white.
Soft as down,
Fine crystals from above.
She feels the chill,
It creeps down her spine,
Settling somewhere
‘Neath the ends
Of blowing hair.
A wind whips it
To and fro,
Like an angry cat’s tail.
Mittens warm her fingertips.
Boots crush the snow
That lands on dirty paths.
Pushing the gate, she
Treads to the door.
Fumbles for her keys,
She is home at last.

Copyright. Evelyn J. Steward. February, 2017.

No. It is not snowing. Just a poem, when little else came to mind. I sincerely hope the winter is passing. Perhaps with a whisper.

I think we are all becoming fed up with the cold of this season. It…

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