Written when the snow was but a forecast on the TV . . .

It felt like rain hammered on pane
While a clear blue outside reigned
Guard changing
Out with the old in with the new
This time true
Or so it should be
For still
A promise of snow
Like gears slammed
Into reverse
To make invisible weather
Worse
The World not made for this
Bees in my feed there too soon
Way
Before they should be
Buzz off
Retreat
Do not return
Until hum of unit
And turn of fan
Rudely beckon
The only question
Damned to do
So what of that already done?
When it comes
Mark the word
They will rise with it
And in judgement flow
Cata doxa

With thanks to Todd Diemer for use of the header image (alt text; the tops of two houses are just visible, while the rest of the buildings remain hidden under a deluge of snow). 

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