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Roxy Jan 24
Camus says "there's no sense in living,
And you should keep your eyes wide open"
But I'll devote my life to writing
and people, beautifully broken.
Amen, I guess
Life is a painting,
From the 1980's.
Just as perfect as it could be,
Just a memory.

I hope I never forget,
The memories,
That are you and me.
Another crisp winter day, plain beautiful.
Sara Barrett Jan 22
Our first snowfall
two teenagers driving through Maryland’s quiet streets,
snowflakes soft as whispers,
pausing the world, binding us in its stillness.

Years later, Montana welcomed us,
its snow blanketing base housing,
our son’s laughter rising like smoke in the cold.
Soon, we welcomed our daughter,
her presence as gentle as freshly fallen snow,
our family growing beneath the frosted skies.

In New Hampshire, snow wrapped us as four,
a family held close through a winter of unknowns,
its quiet presence a reminder of resilience,
of love weathering every storm.

And now, in Florida—
where the sun reigns and snow should be a stranger,
it falls again.
Five hours of wonder cascading from the heavens,
a gift from the elements,
blessing this home, this moment, this us.

Snow has followed our beginnings—
each new chapter marked in white.
It shields, it cleanses,
a quiet protector cloaked in frost,
a sacred pause to reflect, to remember,
to hold close the warmth of our bond.

May it always find us,
this quiet magic,
this pure renewal,
reminding us that wherever we are,
we are blessed,
we are whole,
and we are home.
This poem is a reflection on the role snow has played in my life and the connection it holds with my husband and our journey together. From the winter of 2007, when two teenagers fell in love on snowy Maryland streets, to our first snowfall as a family in Montana, snow has always found us at the start of something new. Now, 17 years later, in the rare magic of Winter Storm Enzo in 2025, we sit together in the Panhandle of Florida, watching 8 inches of snow blanket our world. It feels like a quiet reminder—of love, resilience, and the way snow has always invited us to pause, reflect, and cherish each other as we write the next chapter of our lives.
The streets are frosty,
Blazing white with snow.
The academy has canceled testing,
Because a student has been afflicted with frostbite,
Icy sickness in his fingers.
Welcome to America,
You can go west and burn up,
Or stay to the east and freeze.
This is one crazy winter.
Ellery Jan 20
So many days before
the warm-wind is back,
and I am looking for angels
beneath the dirt of my lawn,
where I sleep and dance and pray
in June;

I open my mouth and scream
into the ground,
so only the bugs and dead things know
what I am afraid of:
   that tomorrow I will be older
and still know nothing.

-Ellery Rose
Ellery Jan 20
The day is cold and calm,
kissing at my cheeks and ears,
staining me pink
and offering quiet advice–
I listen to it,
pay attention
to the tiny cardinal steps
in the tall snow
as the sun sets
and the faraway trees become orange mountains,
as the straight-up branches of a naked pear tree
point to God,
and I know that I am changing again.
inkedsolace Jan 18
It's -35 degrees where I am,
Snowing blizzards that block up roads,
Grumbling adults surround me,
I marvel at their ignorance as they say,
"surely...not another snow day,"
It's so strange, surreal - surely they can see...?
I see a planet defiant in the face of the parasite called humanity.
I am always elated when the snow comes.
To me it's a reminder that we aren't completely hopeless...though we will be if we don't change. Even with the threat of annexation and tariffs (guess where I'm from!), the part I'm most scared about is Trump withdrawing from the Paris Climate Agreement which is basically guaranteed unless he somehow forgets.
Zeno Jan 16
I saw a well that was all
familiar to me
Down beneath hides
the coldest winter,
a barren land so gray and empty  

A murky water, pulling me
like a vortex screaming my name
The shadow crawling over my body
binding me

While an ancient Sumerian god
drumming its hands
on the chambers of my heart,
the harrowing melody that stirs every beat
and a dark symphony that sings
of annihilation

******* all the air in the world
each autumn leaves of my lungs
falling apart, one by one

In the roots, where it crawls
twisting and slithering
forming a knot
around my stomach
Like I'm hanging from a tree
that peers over the edge
of the world

A monster hiding beneath
in the darkness of the well
looking back,
to me that was once alive
now lifeless and empty
Palace in night fog
draped in a pale vestal sheen —
Moonlit débutante
Inspired by this photo I took in late December: https://bsky.app/profile/jackgroundhog.bsky.social/post/3lfuvm7sqcc2f
Windy winter day,
You walk alone in the white and gray.

I walk four paces far from you,
A ghost in the snow's fair ballet.

A bitter breeze blows from the west,
Interrupted by my wispy form.

Graces your rosy cheek,
And you turn to where the winds came from.

Squinting through the blinding snow,
You stare right at me.

And for a moment I think you know,
That I am here, a winter's ghost.
This is a letter I found sitting in a desk drawer of an old house in the Genesee river country. Or at least that's how it reads.
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