Last blast

I watch the pouring snows/ The last of winter’s throes . . . 03/12/2018

First the stillness


the silence


The last of winter this way comes.

The first flakes


waxing larger,


She surges, clings, suppresses, numbs.

As we endure,


her spirit


   Spring, over throes, a requiem hums.

20 thoughts on “Last blast

  1. I really love the rhythm of this poem. All those -ing words really roll as I read. I also love that you were brave enough to title this “last blast.” We had snow again yesterday. Truthfully, even in March, it is beautiful from inside my house. I’d like to think it was our last blast, but I know I won’t be that lucky. The forsythia hasn’t bloomed here yet. I truly love the beauty of snow, but I’m ready for a little spring.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Cathy. I love snow, but winter has seemed longer than usual; spring’s next week but of course that doesn’t rule out another snowfall. The biggest snow of my childhood was in the middle of April. Here’s to grace for your forsythia!


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