Bridle path and motorway unite
Beneath a blinding white blanket,
Soon to melt or be gritted to slush
Cleansing ritual for the winter earth
Until purity is trodden dirty grey
Whiteness imprinted with tyre marks.
Yielding carpet for fox and badger,
To tread upon in search of food.
Creative opportunity for artists.
Photographer, grab your camera.
Kids build snowmen and an igloo
On the lawn to astound the postman
Turn up the heating; curse the bills;
Pray the boiler doesn't pack up.
Frozen lake beyond the window
Now a skating rink for ducks.
Nothing smells bad beneath the snow.
White-out hides its secrets well
Only when it thaws do we become aware
Of frosty pipes that have burst
And things that have died of cold.
© 2015 Stella Kaye