snowOne year ago yesterday we had ‘snowpocalypse’ in Russia and disaster in Glencoe.  I ask myself in today’s balmy sunshine “where are the snows of yesteryear?”







Snow sweeps the nation.
We’re stuck for transportation.
Happens every year.

Snowy white delight for kids,
but Heathrow’s shut, all flights are grounded.
Like head-light rabbits we’re dumbfounded.
What is this thing called snow?

no escaping.
Windscreen, driveway scraping.
Look at all the fuss we’re making.
Snow’s cape.

Soft, white.
Flurrying, burying, worrying.
Four mountain climbers lost their lives.

Russia’s had snowpocalypse,
buried ‘neath a white tsunami.
Buildings, trees like origami.
This is the thing called snow.

Snow o’er land and hills,
except down here in Teignmouth.
Daffodils protrude.


19th January 2013

Notes:  The snow has been in the headlines for most of the week but nothing new in that.  What was different today was two other headlines – “Snowpocalypse Russia: ‘Snow tsunami’ swallows streets, cars, buildings” and “Glencoe avalanche: Four dead, say police” which showed the real devastation that snow can bring.  I’ve used the 3,4,5 style again (see Ikaria) but changed the quatrain rhyming to lines 2 and 3 which seemed to fit better with what I wanted to say.  The style seems to work well when bringing various themes together.

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