Winter White

Winter White
suggested by a title by Zelazny and Ellison

Our snow has wings.

When in winter's worst days
the temperatures plunge to sixty
or below, and all the fields and lawns
are burnt brown from lack of sun
and water--our snowfalls.

It falls in flocks and flurries.
It falls with the whiteness of winters.
It falls in feathers and frail bird bones,
and it lands lightly as its northern brother.

It lingers in patchy whiteness,
on the ground and in the trees, and
then when spring's wanton warmth
beckons, it too dissolves and all but vanishes.

© 2003 Steven Riddle