Jericho Blizzaaro Poem - Down Down Watch it Fall

Down, down, watch it fall

– fun for all

Down, down, we watch it fall
white, white so much blinding
it might as well be night
can be quite the fright
so park your car
(put a yardstick straight up - atop the hood)
up up it goes
watch the snow – totals, like young children,
 quickly grow.

On top the car the yardstick
can be seen from afar

six, seven,
a few hours later ten, eleven
inches of snow from some heaven.

Cozy up to a nice hot fire

clouds bring no blues today
only the warm hues
that came with childhood of yesterday
feelings of fun and excitement
that grow inside
while outside
form whirling rallying propagating creations
foretold by the weatherman
-a true northeasterly
snow squall, whiteout, snow blast, a gale, a
tempest,
gusting, blasting, pummeling, burying,
a true Northeaster
a BLIZZZZZZZZZZZARD.

Count them as fast and long as you can
the numbers of snowflakes exceed all counting
building sand dunes of white
playgrounds for everyone
turning twelve again
as though recess only comes to the young
and those of Yankee heart and New England
home.

No fear to fall
for short or tall
the landing in a free for all
in powder puffs
-pillows should be made of this stuff.

Listen -
Up the road a rumbling
sound
approaching fast
stand clear and cheer
as the snowplow goes fast a past
with the mighty force of steel
attempting to send up, down
back up again only managing a brief repose
from street to sidewalk
for soon comes a mini-plow along the byway
doing its miniature best to send back
what mighty-plow moved in conquest
now goes back into the road.
Ping pong ping pong
mighty-plow and mini-plow
exchange blows
snow in, snow out
push that snow
back in, back out.

While the innocent driveway
takes the brunt of the battle
buried in heavy casualty
chunks and pieces
icy and cold.

Look what they’ve done
to the lighthearted sheet of white
once feather-light, trackless
now hardened, dirtied, broken, jagged, uneven,
disheveled, disordered, tangled, tousled, coarse
conglomerated with pieces of dirt and small
stones
leaving those with mere shovels adorned
looking defeated and forlorn.

Still, the snowflakes fly
in face of it all
for no end is in sight.

Down, down, down
without the pitter or patter
of rain
nor the stinging ice came
down, down, down
moo juice white,
low-fat light,
tickling our noses
extending our eyelashes
soft against our face
cream condensed upon our out
 stretched tongues
pretty in daylight
romantic in starlight.
Today, tomorrow
blend as one
a new day called a blizzaro.

And all we can do
is watch it fall
six seven
ten eleven
twelve fourteen.
The time has come
now I have seen
recess
at my age
who knew?

Throwdown that shovel
join in on the fun
let the plows do battle
for us
let’s just have fun.

~Bernie