Gently Drifting Whiteness

The falling snow is gorgeous,
Gently spiraling, swirling
Down to the ground.

A blanket of gentle white
Coating everything below
Hiding the imperfections
of this grey world.

Such purity of form,
Such wondrous shapes,
Combining together
as a soothing balm
we rush to destroy.

Children playing,
leaving footprints behind.
Plows driving,
leaving salt in their wake.
Shovels scraping,
leaving sidewalks bare.

Tis the season
To let things heal.
Why then do we insist
on making it all surface again?

Why can't we just enjoy the simple beauty
that is falling snow?