• Snow Without a Name

    The blanket sparkled in the sun enthusiastically like crystals,
    The small, cold, sharp pains like tiny thistles.

    The numbing nothingness of the white cover,
    The greenness and life lye secretly under.

    This serenity-filled blinding sight,
    Also gives a chilled delight.

    Anxious for this white sun of freezing wonder, what it would be like to touch it.
    To gaze upon is beauty and cold grace, so brightly lit.

    A rabbit hops through without even ruining the soft-laced dream,
    Its footprints make a needle-sown seam.

    Children run in the whiteness and shimmering fluff flies everywhere,
    The sparkling balls fly in a jetting sunlit flare.

    Suddenly the soft, white dream becomes an open battlefield,
    I run through to join the fun of this freezing spring shield.