William Doreski

Snowy Morning Near Cleveland


Seen from the train, the slur
of wooden houses muddled
with snow looks like disaster.

The snow-slur is on the window,
though, an ethereal avatar
that doesn’t damage anything.

I’m glad. These square Ohio
houses look homey enough
to linger in the memory of those

reared here and gone away
to Chicago, LA, New York
where money flirts for real.

Maybe tired of urban glamor,
some will return. Maybe
by train, the familiar back yards

gaudy with snow, and the blur
on the window a teardrop
any old traveler might shed.