Sunday, January 6, 2019

Poem: The First Snow (Audio)

Welcome to the new face of Word Storm!

After I finished my MBA, I did some tweaking, and I commissioned a lovely graphic artist to design a new cover photo because dragons and tea, travel and thunderstorms. ISN’T IT PRETTY!? Thanks again, Rowa!

But I don’t just have a new cover photo for you. I also spent a good deal of time in December recording the published poems and the Reader’s Choice from 2018, and I’ll be doing some more recordings this year as well. Poetry isn’t just meant to be read on a computer screen, but it’s also meant to be read and shared aloud.

The First Snow

The first snow is fleeting,
fluttering one moment and
                                                melted the next—
but to the driver going to work, she is a blinding sleet,
cascading, bottling up your light and tossing it back—
to the biker heading home, she is the needles,
while the flesh is the pincushion and throw.

The second snow is silent,
drifting down in spurts
                                                taking turns with the sun—
but to the magpie fighting the wind, she is a rip current,
a tether caught on feathers, holding back branches—
to the red rooftops sloping here, she is but a coat,
taken off and folded up indoors.

The third snow is loud,
crackling thunder
                                                howling wind—
but to the mother waiting for a call, she is but a sound
of wailing, complaining, she’s heard it all before—
to the child waiting for a taste of dusted sugar,
she is a touch of dreams, sleigh bells, and numb fingers.


For more audio poetry, check out my Poetry page and don’t forget to subscribe to my YouTube channel!

Let’s chat! What do you think of the new design? Enjoy the audio additions? What did you think of this poem?

Similar poems: Biking to Work, Snowfell, and In Season


  1. I love this! I like the audio addition a lot more than I thought I would one minute ago; I honestly think I got a lot more out of the poem than I would have if I'd just read the text. Like you said, poetry is meant to be read and shared aloud!

    Eleanor | On the Other Side of Reality

    1. Thanks, Eleanor! Back in uni, one of my favorite things was listening to writers read their works. One of my friends in particular had a slight stutter when she read aloud, but I preferred hearing her read it aloud than reading it silently to myself. Listening really helps me feel what the author intended.