Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Carl Papa Palmer 

Not the inviting cotton candy snow
scene on a holiday greeting card
or sparkling fluffy flakes floating
softly in the shaken crystal globe,

These wind whipped ice shards blown,
thrown, stinging, not sticking, hurled,
swirled across bare brown ground like
long white snakes slithering in the sand.


Carl “Papa” Palmer of Old Mill Road in Ridgeway, Virginia, lives in University Place, Washington. He is retired from the military and Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) enjoying life as “Papa” to his grand descendants and being a Franciscan Hospice volunteer. 


  1. Out here on the Pacific coast of Washington in University Place to the south of Seattle, we get an occasional light snow, mostly gone by the next day. Our usual Thanksgiving visit with my grand-boys and their parents in Papillion on Shadow Lake is also the kick-off season for snow snakes.

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