Bosca Dubh

Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything,
the landscape vanished,
not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,
and beyond these windows

the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift,
the paths of trains softly blocked,
the world fallen under this falling.

Snow Day by Billy Collins

We have, of course, seen this fence before, in autumn, at night; I suppose I’m playing elegant variations on the Dowling Garden theme.