Poetry

Snow (#72)

White. White. White.
Falling beneath the canopy of night,
Snow petals floating like flowers from heaven,
One flake turned three, then five, then seven,
Petals floating down as if they had a place to go,
The wind shuffling, dancing, here and there below,
Night-shaded green grass turning white,
As far as the eye could see the sky had no height,
All the earth could see was the endless gray cloud,
Wind and drifting snow could see the tree limbs bowed,
Hours on hours, unwavering snow pelts the ground,
The batter of trees from the wind making little sound,
The ground, treetops, fields, mountains and the night,
White. White. White.

Any Thoughts?

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