Wow I haven't posted in awhile! Here is a little something I wrote in ten minutes. I guess you could call it free form poetry? Anyways enjoy!
If snow was silent
Some people say that snow is soft
and silent
The quiet flakes fall down and
tickle noses with downy feathers, cold tendrils reaching with whispers
They say snow hushes the forests
and the trees
It gives hiding to the birds and
padding to tiny paws
Well if snow is silent, silence
is not always what you would expect
Silence becomes the sound of
eerie creaking and the twanging of a rope as fresh powdered snow flattens
beneath feet padded with toe warmers and wool socks
Beneath boots heavy as anvils to
the fragile piles of crystal
Silence is the slushing and
sloshing of muddied white, imprinted with footsteps’ marks
Silence is the scrape and pat of
mittens on domes of snow piled towards the chilly sky
If snow is silent silence is a
crunch
A mighty or gradual sinking
crunch as the topmost layer of sheets collapses in on the hollow pillow
It is the poof as a carefully
sculpted sphere dissipates against the marshmallow protection of a winter coat
Or the cry of delight and horror
as the snowball instead collides with an unprotected face
If snow is silent then silence is
sound
A million sounds that all feel
like a chilly day in January
Snow sounds like smiling and
layers of clothing and crackling fireplaces inside
It sounds like winter storm
warnings and traffic reports and closed school for the day
It sounds like delight and
snowmen and it sounds like a grumbled comment about moving far away.
That’s what snow sounds like to
me.
A million different sounds. But
no, snow is not silent.
[][][] The Story Weaver [][][]
