On this day
no blanket of snow with
all its incumbent imagery
no thunder and lightning
no despair
no longing
no wish denied or fulfilled
no boundless joy
no guilt or recrimination
no pithy phrase
no piquant thought
no grand metaphor
for a life lived or unlived.
Just the impatient poet
(if poet at all)
tapping impotent pen
to paper in abject futility.