Poem: The Sky Turns Dark


The Sky Turns Dark

The sky turns dark, a harbinger of snow.
Half a foot of it, if the weatherman can be believed.
already a flake or two drifts down like a military scout,
reconnoitering the landscape in preparation.

You live in Vermont. You know the drill.
Soon the patch of woods across from your house
will nearly disappear in a gauzy curtain of white.
The road in front of your house too, will be covered.

Clients cancel. Schools cancel. Stores close.
The world, for a brief time comes to a halt. You are left with a choice,
a book and hours of timelessness,
or connecting to the world through wires.

Just yesterday you heard birds outside your window when you woke.
At the diner down the way there was talk of spring.
You remember laughing. You have only lived here nine years,
but you know the drill. You have seen snow in May.

The sky darkens. You breathe in the smell of snow.
The horizon begins to disappear into a mass of grey.
the air grows colder. You are ready
to let this day vanish. It is Gods way

of telling you it is time to rest,
and though you have disappointed him often, today you surrender.
You go inside and light the fire. You find a book, Tolstoy, and the sofa.
The cat climbs on your belly, kneads a moment, and sleeps.

You may miss this day tomorrow, but in the moment, you will not.
You will rest. You will lose yourself in novels. You will sip tea.
You will reconnect with that rarest of souls, yourself.
The sky turns dark, a harbinger of snow.

About this poem

It’s March. It’s snowing.

The picture was taken just outside my house.



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