The year’s first snow should look more like the flakes
In snowglobes or in Hallmark’s Christmas flicks
Than this, a dingy slop of wet sleet thick
With slush and gross with leaves that lie unraked
Throughout the yard. Their tannins stain the snow
Like yellow piss. We’ll have to wait a few
More weeks — a month, perhaps — before the truly
Picturesque snow falls. It will, I know,
Because it always has before. And when
It does, the lamppost in our yard will stretch
Its charming beams like fingers out to catch
And hold each gently falling snowflake. Then
The snow (at last, a faultless wintry sight!)
Will blanket all, like Christ our sins, in white.
On a Disappointing Mid-November Snowfall
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