It is gorgeous, and marvelously disruptive of the same old same old. Of course, my son and husband don’t appreciate the wonderfulness of all that wet snow clinging so fast to our over-tall yews, which are draped over our car, completely hiding it. After all, they have to clean it off, as well as the driveway and walkways. My muscles can only manage a little bit of the heavy-duty stuff. So, I get to admire the beauty of it all.

In any case, I do want to remind our friends of the forum’s next meeting, on Saturday, Jan. 22, 11 a.m. at the Beverly Public Library. Elva Nelson has promised a program on the sonnet.  All are also encouraged to bring poetry for gentle criticism.

And, I’ll take my chances here. I have rewritten this poem a bit, so some of you will recognize it. I hope it’s better than it was. Any comments are welcome. I’m always learning, always a novice, when it comes to poetry.

Advice to the Cat during a Blizzard

By Cathryn Keefe O’Hare

Snow danced in freestyle

through the clouded heavens

into our backyard

landing deeply.

….

So, no, kitty, you cannot go out.

You’d sink into the frigid fluff.

…

Just listen to the wind sail through

the clattering branches of the trees.

Watch with me the way the yews

accommodate the lavish icing

…

as if it were a fancy frosting,

as if it were their destiny

to be so beautifully laden and bent down.

…

See the way the yard fills up

silently, the lilacs sit

so still between the gusts,

as if holding themselves tight,

as if holding themselves in abeyance.

…

Note how they all suffer and forbear.

Marvel, now, and hush.