Tom Simard

Poetry, Music, and Prose

Continents of Design

Continents of Design
Snowflakes fell
the size of which
held continents
of design.

Roads traversed
so as not to encounter
those whose unlucky spins
put an end to the happy day
they were expecting.

Bails of hay on farm fields rolled.

Bleak whiteness obscured
one’s sense of place.

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7 thoughts on “Continents of Design

  1. Love the words “continents of design.”


  2. Thanks.

    I’ll tell you they were huge flakes.


  3. It would be neat to live in a place (briefly!) where heavy snowfall was an expected event. I lived in Western Washington where it does occasionally snow heavily, but not so you can count on it every year.

    And also, apropos of nothing–with the 2016 Campaign Hoo-Hah getting into full swing, aren’t you glad to be back in the Land of the Free?


  4. Delightful, absolutely delightful. Living in Florida, I miss the snow and its silent mystery. Marvelous poem. All the best,

    Autumn Jade


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