is the view outside the window.
Snow falling, snow blowing
Snow billowing snow
mounding snow rounding
snow mounding
higher and higher
on every surface.
of an empty winter page
strike up my anxiety?
It’s as if I were trapped in school
And no matter that I didn’t
know what the hell was
going on, I was supposed to be writing,
Somehow I still had to fill the
white sheet of paper
with some sort of bright and clever ideas.
Today I sit beside the window
And force myself to slow
down down down
to match the falling snow.
No moving and
perfect silence.
One thing I marvel at:
that in a matter of days
it will
be
spring.
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