snow is falling with stalled gravity
ponderous in white
a gift we’re told, from Russia
whose flakes stutter in our shocked air
inscrutable as they land
whispering in thick accents
and huddling in a carpet of nonchalant threats
on our lawns whose thoughts
have already turned to spring
as shocked daffodils blanch at the intrusion
dog walkers assemble to dissemble
that the biggest ‘dump’ will be on Thursday
and so we all return to base
and wait
for everything we ever said
to come true