It snows as if it meant
never to stop. It started

Saturday; now it’s Tuesday
and no end in sight.

It is very intent on its business,
full of concentration, consistent,

but it seems without joy.
I won’t shovel, for the house

will be barricaded soon enough.
I remember the anesthetic

when bearing a child caesarian.
It came down on me like snow,

white, beautiful, ferocious,
both heavy and weightless, sudden.

“Like that, feeling as if the world was ending,
swallowed by the persistent snow.”

Peg Carlson Lauber, a longtime Eau Claire resident, has published poetry since 1963 and taught in colleges for 40 years. Her latest books are New Orleans Suite and The Whooping Crane Chronicles. More from Peg.