the snow began to fall...

Forty-five minutes spent lying in the darkness,
until finally, their faces were painted by the sun.
They watched the snow creeping into the window;
heard its muffled knock, and saw its wet tongue.

It spilled into the empty glasses,
and drenched all that was near,
leaving a trail proclaiming—
Winter Is Here.

All the mangled sons and daughters are gathered,
sweet Mother Nature’s pushed them inside.
They wrap each other in babies’ blankets,
and huddle pathetically near the fireside.

They all tell stories of their fathers
and they each cry a single tear,
while a neon sign is glowing—
Summer Was Here.

These sons and daughters have only each other now,
Left to kill any hint of Summer that might remain.
They’re throwing letters, applications, and paper hearts—
All just to feed the thirsty flame.

Down, down come the ashes of the frozen youth,
blanketing the flowers we planted, my dear,
that used to sing—
Spring Will Be Here.