A safety-orange traffic cone is brighter than day.
Snow blankets the ground, stifling any seedling
Which might emerge from what was once just mud.
Ashes from a campfire dapple snow with gray —
Seedlings push through the greatest of difficulties.
Angels can be made in snow, days made brighter,
Even those ashes speak of happier days gifted —
Some people have a raven’s shadow above their door, never lifted.
Sorry, when I am given “raven” as a prompt word, my mind always goes, “Poe.”