Each flake laid down upon another...
Random, fresh, lucent - new-fallen snow!
Collecting each and every stillness...
Listening ...a next frigid gust for, to blow.
Each crystal tumbles, ever so gently...
Floating - coasting before one's eyes.
Silent peace, thus completed...
Dancing prisms, descending from the skies.
Not one alike, gathered without a whisper...
Powdery, yet connecting the young, to the old.
Drifting ever slowly, quietly downward...
Alighted, mirrored-up to and against one's soul.
Copyright ©2014 - Robert C. Kuhmann - All Rights Reserved.
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