Snow has a smell. Cold, clear, clean.
Snow has a sound. Deep, dragging crunch.
Snow has a touch. Shocking, dry then wet.
Snow has a look. White, thick, surgical.
Snow has a taste. Chew, melt, refresh.
Snow has a feeling. Rest, slow, sleep.
Snow has a purpose. Softening, hiding, scrubbing.
Your snow poem is lovely and peaceful sounding. I can’t wait for our current snow scene to vanish, and for yours to appear.
It’s clear and chilly in Los Angeles today.
And I’m REALLY homesick for someplace with snow. New York, where I used to live. Colorado, where I’ve never lived.
I’m always homesick for New York, but so fortunate . . . I’m not homesick for Colorado. I’m HERE!