Snow /a poem


I read a great post by Jamie Lee Wallace on ‘Live to Write – Write to Live’ in which she compared shovelling snow to the feelings a writer experiences: the piles of work to do, the blank page, the hard-work completed only to look back & see mistakes and have to start again.

She inspired me, to write this:


pretty & white

but spreading.

I stare and stare but see: nothing.

Things I once knew, gone


Shapes seem to appear…

but I make no attempt

to dig in & clear.

More fell, fresh.

Piled up thoughts

lost – below.

Drifts swirl & rise higher

making mountains.

I look down and up & across

peaks, plains – all to cross, yet…

I find my digging tools

take a breath

and make the first cut.

Later – no impact!

Overnight, the ice came

the ground is set.

I stare and stare but see nothing

more than:

sheets & sheets, all laid

pretty & white.


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