Seven Ways Of Looking At Snow

It cascades down from a gray abyss in icy haste.
The snow rejects you; you are frozen, numb, and abandoned.

Its remains are sporadically dispersed in hardened chunks.
The snow creates an unknown, transparent layer of hazard.

It pushes you into the recess of a cave with solid gusts.
The snow flies in excess, causing sight to be impossible and entrapment inevitable.

It glistens shyly in the morning and the moonlight.
The snow brightly sleeps on the still landscape.

It lays in heavy slabs of languish, forcing you to be the first to budge in this argument.
The snow imposes itself onto your infinite list of chores.

It dances just out of your reach and teases you with tickles on your face.
The snow adds wonder to your day and frees your inner-child, regardless of age.

It swoops down to sweep the atmosphere in its entirety and then dissipates to a dusting.
The snow is unpredictable and I appreciate the flux.