Poem for Sunday, Snow, Fifth Element, I Frankenstein

The Passing of the Wise Men
By Pattiann Rogers

They collected them one by one  
like seed-size pearls and put them  
in their black velvet bags, gathered  
them like small marbles of amethyst  
and alabaster, plucked them
like white cherries from a tree.

They placed all of them carefully  
in their velvet bags scarcely filled.  
And they were patient, gathering  
them slowly all their lives, some  
like berries of glass, like the slighter  
fruit of mistletoe, some appearing  
like tiny flames flashing on sunless
river bottoms or shining like quick silver  
schools of fish in the deep. A few  
were as cold and black and enigmatic  
as skull sockets where eyes should be.

When the end came, they crawled
into their black velvet sacks themselves,  
pulled the drawstrings tight over  
their heads, looked around and above
in the speckled dark and more than once  
toward the east, then assembled  
their instruments and resumed the study  
of their everlasting treasures — Sirius,  
Polaris, Arcturus, Capella, Vega,  
Andromeda, Cygnus X, guides,  
messengers, hope.

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When I went to bed on Friday night, the forecast was for 2-3 inches of snow on Saturday. When I woke up, the forecast was for 3-6 inches. By midday, the forecast was for 6-10 inches. In the end, I think we got about eight inches of snow on top of what was already on the ground from last week -- nothing like what New England is suffering through, but enough to shut down the entire region, especially our neighborhood which was not plowed sufficiently to drive anywhere. Here are some photos taken over the past week, since we've had multiple snowstorms come through:

















Since we were stuck in the house and couldn't take Daniel back to College Park, we decided to watch The Fifth Element since none of us had seen it -- what hilarious, glorious crack -- and then I, Frankenstein -- not hilarious and not as entertaining, though I will confess that it made my eyes less than The Battle of the Five Hours, which is my new standard for disappointment (mediocre movies should at least be only 90 minutes long). We shoveled twice and I walked enough to see deer, then after dinner we watched the Inspector Lewis with Sleepy Hollow's Tom Mison and Katia Winter!