Dust of Snow
By Robert Frost
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
.
. .
. . .
The first snowfall of winter, a scene of white perfection plucked out of all childhood imaginations. One waiting to be explored and trampled into a chaotic maze of lonely tracks.
All inner-children set free, delighted at the interuption of day-to-day mundanity.
Don’t forget your gumboots.
. . .
. .
.
Held in suspense.
Skeletal.
Slide and glide to a wet bottom and red cheeks.
Oh the patience of a snail, waiting for the thaw from the love of the sun.
Away with the blues with this boy.
Keep warm kittens, winter is magical.
Peace to the world.
x
p.s. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) – genius.















