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Blanketed
The snow piles up on my window pane
Obscuring my view.
I see the tips of my cedar hedge
Crowned with white anew.
The soft stuff creates a silhouette-
Etched in lines of white-
Out of every tree limb reaching up,
Stretching to full height.
How I wish that I could go outside
To enjoy the snow,
To feel its delicious coolness now
Through the wind that blow.
Instead, I sit shackled to my chair
Gazing at the sight
Of a myriad of dancing flakes
Blanketing me tight.
