MIDNIGHT MAGIC
by Robin Shwedo
©: Robin Shwedo, 1990
Magic must have visited last night.
Standing on the porch at ten,
I felt the light,
fall rain.
The air had cooled -
"Only from the rain,"
we had agreed.
We went to bed.
Just before midnight,
the children stirred.
"It's cold, Mama."
We covered them,
then stood,
huddled together by the kitchen window,
and watched
as the rain
turned white
and fluffy.
Back in our bed,
we watched the
eerie blanket fall.
The oak
outside our window
became a powdered beauty.
By one,
the snow had stopped.
The wind came,
blew with all its might,
and pushed the slight
powder onto the ground.
It was bitter,
the wind,
and froze everything
with its icy stare.
By morning,
our oak had
become glass-like in its appearance.
Magic had arrived.
A brief description on the seasons changing. This comes from my book Poetry Unassigned, which is looking for a publisher.
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