On one very still night.
In the midst of midwinter,
At the ending of one of those thaws.
It seemed as if all the wee people
Crept throughout the land,
Artistically spreading a white flocking
Inches deep on everything.
As dawn displayed this magic to the world,
Even those that hated winter,
Could see the beauty spread upon the land.
But beauty, being ever so fleeting
Should be enjoyed while one can.
For upon the first breath of wind
Moving an upper branch of a tree.
Shifting the ever so light snow
Till it slipped onto the next branch,
Collecting more of itself as it tumbled,
Growing into a micro avalanche,
Enough hitting the snow covered ground
With a muffled thump
Loud enough to startle a small dog by the trunk.
Leaving the tree standing naked against the sky
And winter shivering in ones sight.
Dan Gray
January 19, 2014