Friday, January 23, 2015

A snowfall

Floating softly to the ground as drifting piles grow.
Last fall there were leaves I watched; now, it's falling snow.
The trees who stripped immodestly to show us every sight,
Have branches that are clothed again (if just for now) in white.

Dressed for a baptism perchance, and with it, brand new life 
Or, my Romantic inner self suggests a wedded wife.
Whatever new beginnings come from wardrobes crystalline
Enjoy the view and don't forget who sent what you have seen.

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