Snowy Stillness: A Poem

Today we had our first real snowfall of the season here in small-town New York! As my family and I went out to shovel the driveway and sidewalk at dusk, I stood before the woods and soaked in the stillness. Phrases and words bombarded my mind, demanding to be woven together into a poem. Snowy Stillness was the result.

Photo: courtesy of

Photo: courtesy of

Snowy Stillness

A Poem by Rebecca Loomis


Sparkling torrents of white pixie dust erupt from the soles of my shoes
And the only soft-spoken sound to be heard is the tinkering snow, and my muse.

If I whisper, “Hello?” not a soul whispers back but the ghosts that howl through the trees.
I shudder and smile simultaneously. Winter knows that I’m easy to please.

I pause from my crunching of tread against ice and stand with my toes going numb.
The earth beckons that I stay still for a while, and with pleasure I gladly succumb.

Snow fairies stall their swirling to hover with gravity caught in their hands.
Their weightlessness leeches debris from my heart: my worries, my fears, and my plans.

What is time? What is work? I forget, and don’t care. Sweet stillness has made its debut.
The moon gives the world a steel, icy kiss. Pigmentation bids all adieux.

Trunks black as coal, silhouetted and tall, lure me up to their eerie frontier.
They entice me with promises of solitude; but I’m not the only one here.

The woods, dead as stone, are teeming with life; asleep but with one eye ajar,
Hidden in hollows and buried in dens, tapping into the same reservoir.

They blink their gold eyes, intrigued but content, at the visitor who shares their cold.
Like them, I’ve no qualm with the season’s brisk nip, so long as there’s family to hold.

My fingers, turned blue, remind me it’s time to put end to my wonderful roam.
With thoughts of warm fires and loved ones in wait, I wander my way back home.

Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Loomis

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