Winter's Here

As darkness falls earlier and earlier,

and ends later and later

and the most stubborn of leaves lose their battle to stay hanging on,

there comes a chill in the air

                a bone-chilling, teeth-chattering reminder,

that what is warm and colorful and bright

                must always come to an end.

And as if cued by an invisible conductor,

the winds breathe out a series of strong

                jarring,

howling

shrieking

screaming

ear-piercing notes.

Leaves scatter and get trapped in the corners of the walls of old hollowed-out buildings

reminders of what once-was

                and is no longer.

As dark clouds cover the already dark sky,

and grey turns to black,

snowflakes start to fall

First one, then two, then three,

                (and for a moment, childhood memories of a snow globe

                triggers an ever-tiny smile to escape from clenched teeth)

and then the snowflakes, blown around by the wind,

blur together to be even more blinding

than the total darkness they’ve replaced;

            and I’m left unsure of which is worse,

to be blind in total darkness

or to be blinded by total whiteness.

For hours, the wind

                and snow

combine furiously to blanket everything in its wrath,

to hide everything,

to cover everything

to sweep everything away…

…until the entire world stops.
And sleeps...

…and then, just as it started, it ends;

three flakes, then two

                (and another frozen smile of a memory of a snow globe occurs)

then

one

last

snowflake

falls

gently

slowly

lazily

effortlessly

       swaying as if dancing to a silent song

and
lightly

touches

the

snow-

covered

ground.

The skies are dark.

The ground is bright;

Brightly covered in its new blanket;

Untouched by anyone or anything.

Clean. Pure. Gentle. Silent.

Peaceful.

The world is resetting.

Time to sleep until spring.