... they fly to ground
riding gusts, they dress tree limbs,
and coat the world in a cotton-like fluff.
Then lying soft and gentle as winds and fall subside
The muffled quiet it brings, rises to swallow
background sound, in the ebbing
of snow's ride from cloud to swirl
It clings so tenderly and complete
it is as if it knows the chased tick-tock
towards tomorrow's warmth
I watch and an eager feather covers my lash
as a once and unique snowflake
dissolves into a common drop of rain
I speak a thought to the snows of March
"Hold tight, you will not be here very long..."
I feel that sly and knowing smile rise then fade away
as I realize thus and slowly, the snows
have whispered quietly this very same thing
to me
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