The storm came in overnight, painted a carnival in the sky:
flakes thick as popped corn, layered the ground like cotton candy.
The icicles line my gutters, give my house an underbite.
I watch cars swerve, roll the stop sign like a pair of dice.
The bubbles have been poured, I’ll save this date;
wrote it in permanent marker on tonight’s cork.
Sometimes it takes a night in your own snow globe
to notice the things you missed before.
You should maybe add an audio version to accompany the written text?