the sun has skipped its rise

meaning it will later appear

without fanfare, sulky and sudden

no pinwheels of orange on the horizon

or freshly painted light dripping

from the cathedral's face, jagging

upward like upside down icicles.

i wake, and it's different

the creamy walls are white

snow has stopped, and rain

last night's icicles melted

into the green below

out the wavy window

the cathedral glows gold

in the early sun, but crisp

more white-gold

i drive across town

all around, the hills

dusted with perfect pale

snow just down to there

grassy green beyond

the fires are out, here

comes winter snow

in september raging

orange to freezing white

is this apocalypse?

#poetry