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As night approaches Low grey cloud Creeps over the city And out of the dark air Flakes begin to fall. Still taxis ply the streets and The odd car makes its way home Leaving a trail on the whitening road. Early risers peer out of windows: A sheet has thickened to a blanket The snow has imposed Its silent will on the city. Morning brings the crunch of steps And the muffled scraping of windscreens With the skidding of tyres And gasps of futile heaving. Reluctant patience in the face Of what can’t be helped. The snow blurs the borders Of path and road and For a brief spell children can Claim the streets and cross The lines that adults drew for them. |
