A Poem Called Snow

Snow

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Snow on snow on snow on old snow,

Pulsing hills of garbage (and snow),

Camouflaging black ice we cannot know.

Memories and butterflies and brown-outs are whited-out.

So are baskets of grilled veggies and wine coolers in the grass.

Snow reveals unseen journeys:

3-legged dog and his person on crutches;

Child’s glove divorced from its mate;

half-buried Metrocard pitched on its edge.

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I will dance down the aisle in anything but white

And drink only red wine until too drunk for words,

And toss out frozen snow peas,

And root for Snow White’s step-mom,

And disown my love of snow leopards,

And call him Edward Whistleblower,

And listen to only 3 of “The Four Seasons”

And finally forget the English for

La nieva

Neve

Lumi

Schnee

Snee.

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The Winter Solstice — in Poetry

December MoonDecember MoonMay Sarton

Before going to bed
After a fall of snow
I look out on the field
Shining there in the moonlight
So calm, untouched and white
Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged
While the moon rose and shone.

Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,
What worlds of play we’ll never know
Sleeping away the cold white night
After a fall of snow. Continue reading

Hey! Who Turned Out the #@%! Lights!

Autumn came and pushed the summer sun away, and I was plunged into darkness.

It happened while I was visiting my sister. It was a great winter visit and I was in love with my niece and nephew. But a few days before I was to leave — Boom! — it fell and anchored me to the bed. I asked my sister to take the kids to a baby sitter that day because I couldn’t deal with them. I couldn’t deal with anything except head under covers in a darkened room. True, I was being treated for depression, but the antidepressant, an SSRI, that had worked so well suddenly abandoned me. And that’s how I felt. Abandoned. I  saw fear in my sister’s eyes. She’d never seen me like this. It went on like this for two days, and I couldn’t leave when I’d planned. Pack! Forget it. I could barely brush my teeth.

In my darkness I remembered my doctor’s advice that I find practitioner who specialized in light therapy. This was not the first autumn/winter that an antidepressant had failed me. A few winters before that I did nothing but work, eat, sleep, and I did manage to take care of my cats, but not my beautifully lush plants, and when late spring arrived, I discovered that they were dead and as crisp and the Cheez-Its (R) I had been stuffing my face with. I made my way to my sister’s computer, found a site that sold light therapy products, and ordered a light box and a book on SAD, seasonal affective disorder, for myself. But Wait-There’s More-Click Here!