the snow is melting, she said,
drowning the world in a river
of frigid mud and mist,
washing over the trees and grass
as it flows into the earth.
the snow is dying, she said,
slaughtered by an apathetic sun,
its beauty mangled and destroyed
simply to make room for warmth
and the return of hideous life.
the snow is dead, she said,
killed by God and Nietzsche
and buried in the horrid past,
forgotten and scorned and empty,
without a tear upon its grave.
ask yourself, she said,
is today really the birth of spring
or just the death of winter?

09/23/2001

Posted on 09/23/2001
Copyright © 2025 Gary Hoffmann