Twas the day after Christmas and all through the town,
Not a thing was stirring — not even the snow plow.
Truly, they called in the road crews to put chains on their tires. We’ve already had more of the white stuff in one day than all of last year. No sooner is the path of escape cleared than it disappears under shifting frozen sands.
Whether modern civilization likes it or not, this is a day of frosty reflection. Forced into our manmade cocoons to watch the snow fly, we will have to wait yet another day for the return lines and fresh supply of toy batteries.
Can we enjoy what is disruptive? Can we appreciate the whims of an unpredictable track? This is our big moment to pause and consider the error of our way before a new year.
For sooner rather than later, a full cold moon will gleam down on the pristine chance of fresh starts.