Black Ice
It gets into all the machines
and freezes up the works,
it coats the sidewalks and front steps,
and slipping on it hurts.
It sheens the railing so that when
you grab them gloves get wet,
it lays on branches so they break,
the living and the dead.
But worst of all, it coats the roads
in glass you cannot see,
you only know when your Honda
is skidding fast and free.
The snow will bring us great beauty,
stark sculptures carved in white,
and seeing those big, fluffy flakes
makes winter seem alright,
but freezing rain, I must confess,
is like the mosquito,
it probably serves some purpose,
what it is? I don’t know.
I hate to hate what nature makes,
but sometimes, it ain’t nice,
I call it scourge of the northeast,
I hate, I HATE, black ice.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2024
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