In sunny surf he woke to hear the snow:
\nthe muffled strident rhythms of machines.
\nHe coughed; a spasm tore his chest; he sneezed;
\nyet soon he’d trudge out shoveling in the cold.<\/p>\n
The trees were puffed in white, each twig aglow;
\npoets vie to pantheize such views;
\nchildren would dress snowman for the news;
\nand he is\u00a0 heaping pyramids of snow.<\/p>\n
Inside his parka beats an ancient heart;
\nand just behind the curtain watching wife
\nworries, wonders at each pause for breath;
\nhe thinks how in a week it could depart,
\nhow sun and rain could sweep away this life;
\nand with a giggle contemplates soft death.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In sunny surf he woke to hear the snow: the muffled strident rhythms of machines. He coughed; a spasm tore his chest; he sneezed; yet soon he’d trudge out shoveling in the cold. The trees were puffed in white, each … Continue reading