Last night the snowstorm came
Falling on an already white landscape
Covering the plowed streets and mounds
Smoothing rough edges
It came down
Seen only in folds of light
Felt in the shadows like a thousand icy kisses
Becoming one with the cold dark river
The storm stopped by morning
Having transformed the snowman in the yard
Now deformed, lopsided and odd-looking
Like something I may have met in a nightmare.