Fear of White

The white confronted me
I wanted to make snow angels;
I am an adult; now is not the time;
I didn’t want to shovel it
And I wouldn’t need to.

The white confronted me
Like snickering demons from a church face.

Oh, it was Virgin
But not … pure.

Damn, I hate writer’s block.

NOTES:
This is the first of a number of poems that I wrote years ago. This was written in 1993. Hopefully this is enjoyable and adds to your daily amusement. I plan to intersperse these in with poems I write now and maybe other writing about life and business that can be found at bernharderb.com.