Poem: Snow Maps

Snow Maps

Snow on the windows, blown in the wind.
Some of it stays, swirled like a map
of some strange world where everything is in flux,
almost too real to bear.

About this poem

The picture is of a window of my old Isuzu Trooper in the snow. It looked like a map to me and has been rattling around trying to become a poem since last winter.

Tom

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