Snow falls on the Bradford pears today
As I sit in this window
like a store front, deranged maniquin
Watching..
Those trees look like clouds
White, fluffy
But they can never float away
Tethered to the earth by roots and trunks
If one were to try and cut them free,
they would surely die

I think of the way snow flakes cover each already white, bloom
Like they're making love, after a long parting
Only to part again with the change of season
A chance encounter, between the blooms, and flakes
When the clouds scatter and the moon shines,
The flakes kisses will sparkle on the petals
and make love in a new way~A