in the blue light
of an icy February dawn,
everything is crisp
everything has edges
that crumble and crunch
and the wide mouth
of the wind shows its teeth
as it comes surging
around the corner
of my 43rd year
once every year
we meet in some manner,
this time it is with
cold-bitten fingers,
head down against the wind
though here and there
a few power lines
may be leaning low,
you may be certain
we will meet this way again
© Sarah Whiteley
Snow on Sunday night and two inches of ice on the roads in my neighborhood. Tomorrow I turn 43 and I can’t remember the last time I had snow on my birthday. It’s not such a common thing in Seattle, and so usually I have to go in search of it up into the mountains and foothills if I want some of the white stuff. This year, I can just step outside my door.
My newest chapbook Wandering Wonderful is now available for pre-order from Finishing Line Press.
Those power lines get lower every year. Just keep transmitting.
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When I was very young snow always seems magical to me. Snowing still seems just as magical. Nothing essential has changed over the years.
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No doubt a gift from some winter fairy…happy birthday!
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Thank you! I think the winter fairy may have made up for lost time. 🙂
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“and the wide mouth of the wind shows its teeth”- Perfection personified!
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Thank you! 🙂
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Splendid poem Sarah – I love that ‘crisp’ description.
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Thank you, John!
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Happy Belated Birthday Sarah, I love that image of the wide-mouthed wind meeting you.
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A belated happy birthday, Sarah! (Ah, to be 43 again. 🙂 ) I love your poem!
We’ve had some snow down here, but not as much as Seattle area. We get KOMO news here so I watch….but it makes me homesick. 🤗 )
Stay warm!
(I’m behind reading blogs again – will catch up with you soon.)
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