Old Snow

Everybody should be quiet about old snow.

It is not a problem to be solved.

Let it lie there without getting all shivery.

Don’t make much of it.

It is not necessary to invent a sunny spring day,

Or to suggest that new-fallen snow is

Any more beautiful.


Old snow is not an opportunity to expound

On dirtiness, or dog turds on top, or dead leaves,

Or twigs reaching for a new season’s warmth.

Leave the metaphors, rhymes and stanzas, for poems.

Don’t make anything with words.

See snow with the exact precision that you would

Check out a basket of laundry.


There is no need to weep into a handkerchief

About six more weeks of winter,

Or to get emotional about a pair of socks,

Or a cotton tee shirt.

The panties are not there for you to get aroused,

Or get dreamy-eyed about a summer vacation

At the sight of Bermuda shorts.


Old snow is old snow.

Don’t think about what lies beneath.

Old snow is nothing but information,

Not art or science to be melted with noble intentions.

Don’t photograph it and post it to Facebook

For the gasps and sighs of friends,

Like you work for National Geographic.


Sit down on the wet, quiet disorganization,

Polite and present.  Stop outrunning yourself.

Simply sit until you lose your capacity to speak,

And forget about what kind of crazy you are.

God had no words for his boy’s death.

He couldn’t watch or comment on it.

He just waited for him on the other side.




Randy Evans

One thought on “Old Snow

  1. I had the chance to read The Lawnmower Club recently. I thought it was a well written and humorous break from the books I normally read. Reading time is always limited. Too many books, too little time. I tend to favor non-fiction and classical fiction. I’m glad I broke my routine for this stimulating escape novel. I’ll never be able to look at a John Deere tractor again without a smile.


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