The frolic architecture of the snow
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Everywhere it falls haphazardly
to mock the mundane images
of our considered world.
A neighbor’s two heraldic stone lions,
fronting snowfall at the entryway,
look cream-pied-in-the-eye,
blindly guarding no one.
A wooden bench the bed for a supine
snowman catching a morning nap.
A ceramic duck, with white drift mounding
its back, needs help, struggles under its load.
A folded newspaper has gone to bed
in the naked street, tucked under a white hanky
pulled to its rubber-banded neck.
In a yard, the Virgin Mary,
with bowed head, outstretched hands
piling high with snow, appears to ask,
For this I am praying?
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