i hate snow

i hate snow.
i hate when people say how
lovely it is. look
how wonderful
the trees are when they are
covered, dappled
in white frosting.
look over there,
that smooth blanket, cresting
over that hill,
which happens to be
my car.
I don't want to ski
on it,
trudge through it, or
shovel.
I don't want to spread
salt, and sweep, defrost
the windows.
I don't want to talk with
the neighbors
about the snow.
pushing each other's cars
out as the tires spin
on sheets of ice.
I don't want to ask
how the roads are,
when it will stop
or start again.
I want it to go away, now.
my dog agrees.