In the Bleak Midwinter - A Haiku (Of Sorts)

Is it over yet? I must have cleaned the ice and snow off of my car three (or was it four times) just a little over a week ago! Snow in the city can have disgusting consequences. But here on this little island in the Bronx, I've tried to overlook the salt, dirty slush, and tired faces of grumpy commuters. Despite the feel of this never-ending winter, the scenery throughout has been ever-changing and stunningly beautiful. 

A frozen coating settled on every surface. Ice encapsulated each singular twig on the tree outside my window. Even with the tides, the bay formed a glistening, rippled sheet completely to the other side of the skyline. Some of the old-timers here on the Island exclaimed that this phenomenon hasn't happened for over twenty years. Dusky gray skies with a hint of yellow yielded a heavy, sleepy silence punctuated only by the occasional squawk of water fowl or plane headed to LaGuardia.