Blizzard, by Barbara Juster Esbensen

Happy Poetry Friday! Usually, when I recommend poetry books–whether it’s to educators, kids, or aspiring poets–I recommend focusing on very current books. But Barbara Juster Esbensen is one of my favorites, and her poems always feel like they could have been written just this morning.

In honor of the northeastern United States, which has gotten dumped on this winter, here’s a poem called “Blizzard.” This also reminds me of the time I got stuck in a blizzard trying to drive home from a school visit a few hours away. A truly terrifying experience. However, we’ve had very little snow in Minnesota this winter, and I wish we could get some more. Just not when I’m traveling to visit schools. :>) Stay warm and safe, everyone!

Blizzard

On the highway
herded by the wind
cars plow home.

There is no room
for sky or air
the space is filled
with white wings
that beat in thickest
rhythm
soundless and falling.

All night
I will dream of moths
and white birds.

–Barbara Juster Esbensen, all rights reserved

Don’t miss the Poetry Friday Roundup at the thoughtful and lovely Heidi Mordhorst’s My Juicy Little Universe.

48 Responses

  1. We had a snow day today, worst snow last evening, but still snowing lightly. It’s a lovely poem, Laura. I love that ‘plow home’-just how it feels.

  2. We had a snow day today, worst snow last evening, but still snowing lightly. It’s a lovely poem, Laura. I love that ‘plow home’-just how it feels.

  3. I had a terrifying experience on the road in the snow last Saturday, so I can totally relate. I especially like “the space is filled/with white wings/that beat in thickest/rhythm/soundless and falling.” So perfect.

    1. Something about the word “thickest” (I have no idea what) makes it feel so cozy and private and overwhelmingly white. Glad you’re safe, Tabatha!

  4. I had a terrifying experience on the road in the snow last Saturday, so I can totally relate. I especially like “the space is filled/with white wings/that beat in thickest/rhythm/soundless and falling.” So perfect.

    1. Something about the word “thickest” (I have no idea what) makes it feel so cozy and private and overwhelmingly white. Glad you’re safe, Tabatha!

  5. This is my favorite kind of snow — in a poem, and not in real life. 🙂 Beautiful, those dreams of white birds… not so beautiful the traffic snarls created by ice on roadways in a southern city not accustomed to dealing with it! Excited for ROCK making it’s debut, Laura! Congratulations!!

  6. This is my favorite kind of snow — in a poem, and not in real life. 🙂 Beautiful, those dreams of white birds… not so beautiful the traffic snarls created by ice on roadways in a southern city not accustomed to dealing with it! Excited for ROCK making it’s debut, Laura! Congratulations!!

  7. Congratulations on A Rock, Laura! My favorite bit of this is
    “There is no room
    for sky or air”–
    just moths and white birds all night. Lovely!

  8. Congratulations on A Rock, Laura! My favorite bit of this is
    “There is no room
    for sky or air”–
    just moths and white birds all night. Lovely!

  9. No snow here, though my kiddos have had plenty in the lower Appalachians. Barbara Juster Ebsensen’s work is just timeless. And this one was particularly timeLY — thanks for sharing.

    HUGE Congrats on A ROCK… you do, of course. Rock.

  10. No snow here, though my kiddos have had plenty in the lower Appalachians. Barbara Juster Ebsensen’s work is just timeless. And this one was particularly timeLY — thanks for sharing.

    HUGE Congrats on A ROCK… you do, of course. Rock.

  11. parts of this poem seam honating like the last line thinking of how much snow some stats got this winter

  12. parts of this poem seam honating like the last line thinking of how much snow some stats got this winter

  13. “Soundless and falling” is exactly right. I actually love the peace snow falling. It’s the wind that I can live without. Thanks for sharing this lovely poem, Laura!

  14. “Soundless and falling” is exactly right. I actually love the peace snow falling. It’s the wind that I can live without. Thanks for sharing this lovely poem, Laura!

  15. This poem captured something of the puzzle that is a blizzard to me — that comforting whiteness:
    white wings
    that beat in thickest
    rhythm
    soundless and falling.

    Just lovely!

    1. Somehow that wild blizzard weather is so insulating. It makes me feel like I’m all alone in the world, but not alone, just happily ensconced in my own dream world. That pry doesn’t make any sense, but–as long as I’m not out driving in it–a great snowstorm or blizzard is indeed really comforting and beautiful!

  16. This poem captured something of the puzzle that is a blizzard to me — that comforting whiteness:
    white wings
    that beat in thickest
    rhythm
    soundless and falling.

    Just lovely!

    1. Somehow that wild blizzard weather is so insulating. It makes me feel like I’m all alone in the world, but not alone, just happily ensconced in my own dream world. That pry doesn’t make any sense, but–as long as I’m not out driving in it–a great snowstorm or blizzard is indeed really comforting and beautiful!

  17. One of my favorite children’s poets, and one that I’m heartsick I’ll never have a chance to meet. This is but one of the many poetic things we have in common, Laura. Thanks for highlighting her!

    1. I’m not sure I would ever have considered writing poetry if I hadn’t heard her speak. Such a lovely poet!

  18. One of my favorite children’s poets, and one that I’m heartsick I’ll never have a chance to meet. This is but one of the many poetic things we have in common, Laura. Thanks for highlighting her!

    1. I’m not sure I would ever have considered writing poetry if I hadn’t heard her speak. Such a lovely poet!

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