The Beast from the East

The Beast From the East

In a harsh hush

With biting teeth

The Beast from the East

Came like a thief in the night.

It howled through the streets

It screamed through bone

Would roam and roam and make all still.

But the Beast from the East

Came not with a roar, 

But a whisper.

Just the soft little pats

Of a flake at a time,

And as poets write trite rhymes

On blankets of ice that sparkle and shine,

The Beast from the East, 

Took over our lives.

It buried history, 

’Til children slid screaming over old bones, 

And joyous laughter rang in skips and tumbles, 

Over frozen cobblestones.

The Beast from the East

Took daily routines, 

And tossed them in flurries into frozen air,

’Til time lost all meaning

Was swapped for glorious holidays in miniature, 

As we sheltered under blankets, 

With plates of crackers and cheese.

It could end any minute, 

This visit, 

And so we grumble and moan, 

As the Beast from the East roams and roams, 

And take secret, shivering pleasure, 

At the attack of this vicious monster.