Pete Weinstock

Frosty morning

 

Through the window, a fulgent glow.

Clouds, not moving, my thoughts so slow.

Thinking long, on shadows cast

The sky, so full of snow.

 

Today the world is filled with snow,

but hidden shoots soon begin to show,      

green and fresh beneath the crust

some secret thing: I think they know.

 

Drifted flakes floated passed.

I wonder how long the snow will last.

Will it settle? Will it stay?

All the problems, they seem so vast.

 

Over the future, we hold sway,

What matters is what we do today.

How long will polar ice caps last?

How long and dark, those shadows cast?

Commentary

A poem written while watching snow fall with Robert Frost in mind.