A flurry descends
Upon this town
Like a snow globe
Shaken up and down.
Given time
It does settle
Disappearing on
Glass and metal.
And when it stops
Then starts again
Squalls abreast
All down the glen
The clouds will tumble
And grey the dome
--Above the sky
--Above this home,
The winds, they sway
The wire of phones
The sun that shines
Once was not shone
While snow once more
Flung to the air
Where it lingers and tarries there
Then to rest on house and stone
To claim the earth that was its own
My fingers retract from the window pane
To watch it start
Then stop again.