Imagine thumbing through the travel brochures of your mind, white showers that write expression when the world goes dark; it is then, that understanding of impermanence dawns upon us, tiptoes like a cat in silence, when we least expect it. Snow would be the easy way out. Perhaps, but I imagine it to be more than just that.

Over time it has been heavily romanticized, been made to seem better, more appealing than it really is- I wonder how plains feel, bare and exposed as they are, surely, they must have a say in the matter.

Snow is not white. It’s a common misconception that’s going around, rather it is translucent. It’s a cosmic dream at best. And so, we wait for snow to come and teach us how to adapt. Its breath is a song that combats the cold within. Or is it?






Photo credits: Close up of snow by Liz Pullan Pattathy, Unsplash

Kim hosts at dVerse and asks us to write inspired by a line from ‘November for 
beginners,’ by Rita Dove. Come join us! 💘

Posted for Prosery Monday @dVerse Poets Pub