It's not pretty anymore....

When it fell, it was glorious,
ethereal, wondrous, full of glory,
but a month later
it has lost it's beauty.

The snow plows have done their best
to throw each new fall up,
full of salt and sand,
to cover what was pristine.

The sun melts make sidewalks
almost impassable
with ice you can't see at night.

And the snow has grown old,
with icy fingers
and frozen mounds
where once it was soft and lovely.

Ah, but when it falls,
coating your clothes,
your dog 
and eyelashes,
you just want to open you mouth
and catch a few flakes.

Snow can hypnotize you
when it's falling.
But after a month on the ground,
shoveled up to shoulder level,
frozen over and again,
it's just a pain
you want to go away.

A brown and dirty and icy
reminder of what
looked so pretty once.

A visual tooth-ache
that has no easy relief.