The sun has melted most of the blizzard away
and the water runs rampant through the streets.
Rivers wrap the curbs and corners
even though they are covered in snow.
The freeze fell short as flurries flew
so flakes failed to form in the norm
and
seized the trees with a soaking squeeze.
The breeze blew while the piles grew and growled
where leaves were once green and wild.
Their lifeless limbs litter the floor,
exposing a sore never quite seen before.
© Sean Short 2022
A Blooming Scribe 