It's a momentary pleasure
to the sounds and sights alike,
Road and grass at day
then blank canvas after night,
Where northern chills bring slower rain
that spreads faster than the light,
The new white wary world
emerges freshly into sight.
Erasing colours from the streets
and problems from the mind,
An atmospheric greeting
from vapour and ice combined,
Distorting cars and houses
until no longer humankind,
Growing, ever growing,
Up the walls like tomato vines.
Influential and unstoppable
the artists' spirits fade,
For once the presence tastes
like lavish laughter in the face,
The grimace shared amongst the props
is reflection of first taste,
All ice and rain and ice again
A blank canvas gone to waste.
Kale Beaudry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blank-canvas/
