Home on the Red-Eye

Jet-lagged, droop-looping from a
Nightmare red-eye from
Sun-drenched San-Diego,
I staggered into snowy Boston
Like a drunken sailor
Slapped into awed silence
When he stumbles into the
Silent nave of a cathedral.
I moved in one long day
From sunny palm trees
To snow-silenced roads
Moving nave-like beneath
The snow-draped, arching trees
In Sunday-early stillness.
After the blizzard, the
Roads are still and white,
A purity, an austere beauty;
So sharp contrast to that
Too fecund greenness that I fled.