Snow Day in the South

You know before you’re out of bed

Just from the shade of grey

That trickles through your window slats

Declaring a Snow Day.

/

Sure enough, you grab the dog,

And make your way outside,

To revel in the crack’ling frost

Flung heedless, far, and wide.

/

The county is out of its depth—

They’re not equipped for this!

A hurricane is one thing, but

Snow? More of a myth.

/

So when it comes, and the roads freeze,

They simply stay that way—

There are no snow plows, or road salt,

Which means you have to play.

/

You ramble through the gilded woods

All muted by the snow.

You walk down to the highway just

To watch as cars don’t go.

/

You’re by yourself, in the best way.

You bake, you read, you rest.

You’re eight again; back, long ago,

When life was not a test.

/

“Efficiency! Let’s maximize!

Work harder! Better! More!

No time for fun. And who needs sleep?

That’s what Death is for!

/

Work on yourself! Go exercise!

Try therapy! A cleanse!

Go heal your inner child, go

Find a different lens.

/

Less screen time and more vegetables!

No toxic people, please—

Be effortless, be beautiful,

But be yourself; at ease!”

/

The snow, it seems, by some magic,

Mutes more than just mere sound;

For every, screaming, mocking voice,

Is nowhere to be found.

/

The most important thing today

Was drinking in the sight

Of a a lovely, fairy, opal world

As nuanced as the night.

/

Tucked in, warm, Sabbath-glutted, full,

Peace dripping from your mouth,

Eyes closed, give thanks, and pray for one

More Snow Day in the south.

//