A World Washed with White

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 A World Washed with White


Outside my window, a slight movement in the faint morning light…

It’s those snow sprites again drifting down the sky,

Wispy snowflakes covering all with white.

White sky, white trees, white ground.

Now they’ve made the very air white,

As well as my snow shovel awaiting me on the white porch,

Overlooking my driveway, white for the third morning in a row.

Those sprites want to keep me exercising.

Oh well, Wisconsin winter means shoveling snow,

While also enjoying its pristine beauty. 

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