Poetry of Rebecca Fein
Fresh Falling Snow
How beautiful a thing is the snow,
It falls in its mysterious fashion
And not like disappearing rain;
Covers pavement softly so that
When one walks, the wonderless, hard city streets are no longer there.
Instead one steps into whiteness and depth in front of one.
A welcome visitation,
Transforming for a while, the city, its people, their work, their understanding.
From Personal & Impersonal
© 1959 by Terrain Gallery
“The poetic relation of snow and consciousness made for the poem Fresh Falling Snow.”
—Eli Siegel
From Preface to Personal & Impersonal