The snow in silent beauty
within the twilight of the spring
glistens in the March noon sun
where its light begins to bright.
A sheltered white dressed in haze
a volume filled but seldom read
housing a warmth that nature closed
as the traveling of seasons are lived in the sun.
Leaving no warmth in the arms of the cold
as the march of noon futures the cause
reflecting the centuries that gave birth to its tale
regenerating the growth beneath the softening earth.
A river of water from the mountains and streets
leaving patterns of geometry in their passing wake
an ending unseen in the importance of things
as the warmth of nature comes to munch.
Leaving the snow in a watery demise
parting to nature its dawn giving stream
unaware of the essence its power does hold
as the cycle of life lies in the warming cold.
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