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One Hundred Words for Snow
Marxy Goldman (c)
They say there’s one hundred words for snow
But I’m not privy to the language
That makes it so
And as magical as snow can be
One hundred words does seem in excess
So I wonder
On this winter’s solstice night
Why love, no less pretty than snow,
Has only one word.
Love
Is
Over used perhaps
Sometimes untrue
But Love is certainly
As magical
As dear
As sweet
As snow.
Adoration is not the same
Nor lust, infatuation, passion
They pale or are over the mark
I watch the snow as it falls
Scatters on the streets
Below my Juliette window
It will all disappear soon enough
But not before someone
Draws a heart
On a flake-kissed windshield or on a snowy walk
There are one hundred words for snow
But only one word for love –
I think it must be because
One melts
While the other stays
Even as its seasons come and go.