Snow Day - March 22 2022

 

Snow Day

March 22 2022

Businesses are shuttered

the library closed its doors.

Events are postponed

school has been cancelled

and even main roads are impassable.

Any city buses

that aren't either stranded or stalled

have been called back to the barn.

But the quiet is glorious.

The snow, piled high, is powder,

absorbing sound

and softening the world.

I am marooned inside,

at home

hunkered down

the time all my own.

It's as if a snow day

absolves us of sin,

because an act of God

is beyond our control.

There is no guilt or shame

for sloth and gluttony,

and even envy gets forgiven

if you find yourself longing

for warm sand beaches

and tropical sun.

Tomorrow

a big yellow plough

will pass in front

and the spell will break;

its soot-streaked stack

belching smoke,

its curved steel blade

clattering loudly,

its pounding motor

revving and roaring

as it thunders by.

The massive diesel

powering through the fresh white snow

like an ice-breaker through the harbour,

leaving a lane of black open water

roiling in its wake.

But for now, it's uncannily quiet.

The city that never sleeps

is at rest.

Even the barking dogs

and honking cars

and shunting trains

mustering down at the freight-yard

have stilled.

Except for some hardy souls

out for a walk

on the street out front,

their footsteps muffled

by the soft carpet of snow.

They laugh and talk quietly,

as if making too much noise

would be disrespectful,

violating the peace

on this extra day

of rest and absolution.