Aftermath...

Wind whipped ripples
     in the cold white winter sand
Sun's warmth left icicles to hang
     as waves stand frozen
before crashing to snowy shore
     Whiteness glares, backup horns blare,
snowplows going back and forth
     keeping their own time, their own tide
Sleds of different shapes and colors
     glide down now well-worn track
Golf courses have always been the sources
     of winter laughs upon flimsy crafts
careening down manicured lawn
     as powder flies amid the cries
and arms stretched heavenward
     The storm has passed, serene is the scene
Winter is all or nothing, there is not in between...