(Day 12, 2017)
which is worse…cold crisp snow
that freezes the toes and tip of the nose
that chills our livers and sends shivers up the spine
—or melting slush of wet and grime?
in place of charming crunch of boots
and pinching cheeks rosy and frosting young shoots
discouraged from peeping ‘oer the sturdy ground
that protects from sinking deep in the mire…
wading through former fresh fallen snow,
now transformed into slurping melting slush pools
seeping into shoes and soaking pantlegs
dripping and sogging our ankles..
soon more sparkling drifts of snow
will follow, draping upon the slush of yesterday…
adorning crests and crevices with camouflage
of winter’s beauty…just tread with care.
© Sometimes, 2017