I really miss snow.

Family and friends remark, “Easy to say from Florida.”

They may be right; nevertheless, beautiful winter scenes created by the recent blizzard bring me happiness and serenity.

I found myself reciting Robert Frost’s poem, “Stopping by Woods on Snowy Evening.”

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Poem by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake the darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake to ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Frost found words to express a feeling so special it has ownership. Not his, but one to be shared.

The line, the only other sound’s the sweep of easy wind and downy flake, sparked my poem.

Sounds of Snow

     by Claudia . . . just saying

The sound of snow after falling

A quiet stillness penetrating crisp air

Listen intensely for snare drums not there

The howl of the wind mimics French horns

Stop in soft snow tracks

An acoustical silence alone

An absence of flurry

Close your eyes

Hear the gentle whispers of nature singing

Remember the sound after snow falling  . . . never there

. . . . just saying