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.