The First Snow
by Judy Lorenzen

And now you lie there
in your flowing robe,
white and glistening from its newness–
yet you remind me
that a pulse is reverberating
underneath.

How your beauty and coldness resemble
the way some people are–
lovely to look at but hearts of ice–
never loving to be in their presence,
never growing close to them,
before they vanish.

I often feel sad
when it’s time for your arrival,
the immensity of change you bring,
from warm autumn days, the trees
putting on their golden garb
to their taking off of every jeweled leaf.
I would be a liar to deny
your beguiling beauty–
even though you are cold–
your picturesque sight,
create, again, glimpses
of otherworldliness.



 

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