The Boulevard de Clichy under Snow
They float like quiet ships with full sail
in their black bustled dresses and plumed
hats. Moving through the first snow of
November, all is white, quiet, pretty, and
magical. Winter is a still life picture; not
inconvenient; not a struggle. A tranquil
ballet of horse drawn carriages and fur collared
gentlemen in top hats and black scarves embrace
the new season like a familiar opening melody
of an age old song. Leafless poplar trees, brown,
against a gray mist sky stand like sentries to
this serene vision. Snowflakes complex, delicate, unique,
build upon one another like a colony
of coral the color of swan's feathers. This snowfall
filled with an awe and aura of the mysterious
s revealed in the faces of pedestrians
saw only by the gray trousered boy
leaning out, looking.
© Gayle M. Petty
