Ice Storm
By Priscilla S. McKinney

In mid to late November
or early in December,
winter comes, not first
as snow, but afternoon
or evening breeze which
swirls remaining leaves,
accelerating into gusts,
then rain becoming mush,
soon slashing sleet
which full-speed wipers
barely clean from glass
of cars that crawl
on slippery streets.

Soon all transforms,
with coming dark,
when sparkling ice
coats roads, walks,
lawns, tree limbs, even
lights and power lines
in glistening sheets.

Safe indoors, I pull
my blankets tight;
yet, sleepless, I endure
the night, as tree limbs,
cracking, dropping,
shoot me bolt upright.