First Snow

img_1715The silky sense of snow in silentness

So soft and stealthy from the dark of night

Is barely more than naught, but none-the-less

Turns every sullen surface into light

And puts the passing autumn out of sight.

And once again, the pond is covered white

Where days ago cat’s-paws and ripples played.

The farther shore has disappeared outright.

Just yesterday, it clear reflections made.

Old Winter’s come, lest autumn overstayed.

Snow-filled, the crystal atmosphere alights

On every crumpled leaf and withered blade

Which Spring had warmed to life, and Summer heights

Enticed to outward show and escapade.

In Winter’s welcome soulfulness, is laid.

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