The first sight, a branch of tree
Stood still gazing at me,
Displaying how the powdery consistency
Settles there and stays to see.
It has a most incredible knack
To seek out the most hidden crack
Or an obvious horizontal place
Or any slightly slanted space.
It falls topping all the land
And does not care for the naked hand - that
Plunges into its frozen depths.
It cares for nothing – only to fall
Then to melt then to return to the land.
To touch the stuff isn’t quite enough
You’ve gotta stomp around a bit
And feel it crunch beneath your feet
It’s something that you just can’t beat.
White and cold, the flakes fall.
They dance majestically through chilled air,
Like drifting stars through space.
This place is transformed.
Each individual miniscule flake
Joins the others on the ground
And as a whole they change into
Something that is bound to change again.
It spirals out of control.
It lies beyond human movement.
The graceful death of a cloud
Proud to become frozen rain once
Again this winter -
It will return to the sky one day
When summer heats the ground
Then will die again taking another form
vapor that warms the humid air.