Survey the tactics of the snowflakes,
a geyser flaunting spring-like snowballs across the woodland,
staging picturesque scenes,
too soon trampled under the hay.
Winter with all its arthritic - phantoms,
forces us to listen to the voice of silent.
It stills our souls with an awareness of our nakedness,
and the cost of cold-folly.
To soon the sun will make all twinklings disappear:
diamonds in snow;
phantom - mannequins of kings high on their throne;
satin gardens against the wall;
they will lose their play when Winter ends
and leapings begin.
Our life is but a decorative snowflake
that flickers when nearing Winter's edge.
