A single falling flake,
Falling, falling down.
Staining deep into the ground.
A solitary speck,
A pure white thing, a precious cold
Not weak, but bold.
Echoes of a floating leaf,
Bare, naked trees,
Stiffened in the cold, cold breeze.
So many of its peers,
Dot the air, the ground,
Melting slowly without sound.
Gentle,
Forgiving so soon, forgotten as fast,
It cannot, will not last.
A blanket on the ground,
Wrought upon the dirt, the land,
Whiter than even the blankest, Caribbean sand.