Poetry Challenge #22: Snow Poem

As I am running out of material from which to cull ideas for poetic forms, I am going to wing this one. I will let participants choose their preferred form of poem; I am just dictating the subject: snow.

Here goes:

Snow Day

At first glance it looks

like fog, but deeper

through the haze, reveals

the tiny flakes slipping

through the atmosphere.

The earth slowly draws up

its light, crisp blanket,

fluffy but giving no warmth,

blowing like down but

stinging the eyes like tiny needles.

With eyes closed, it sounds as if

the world has been paused,

snow muffling every ordinary

event to the point of nearly

deafening silence.

Biting wind takes its toll,

eyes and nose streaming,

begging to be returned

to climate controlled conditions.

Fingers reluctantly cede sensation.

What little can be smelled

is sharp, clean, and very cold.

If one could smell a smooth

piece of sharp metal,

this would be it.

Air nearly tastes of mint,

drawing a deep breath

produces the inevitable cough,

lungs protesting the arctic invasion

of their tropical environs.

Returning from the frozen

tundra, body confused

by the sudden intrusion of warmth

in the once-huddled mass,

the strip-down to human begins.