Winter Day

Kisses from the wind raise -

The hairs on my arms to attention.

And I stuff my hands deeper -

In my deeper-than-not  pockets.

 

 Condensation drifts through the air -

 Like ghosts resigned to fading.

 Each puff swirling in on itself-

 As the molecules dance over the air.

 

I survey the ground for slip-slap -slush -

Which tries to swallow my shoes.

As a small crystalline structure hangs-

Loosely from my icy eyelash.

 

From here it looks like a simple dot-

But time learned knowledge tells me better.

That there is more than I see-

Something precious in this small ice-fractal.

 

The knee high mounds of white solid waters -

Stand like a red sea parted.

For now God holds them tall and whole-

Like a scientific yet possible miracle.

 

But soon God may cover the sea bed -

Unrepentantly, with their melted state. 

The wind licks snow off the mounds -

To dance each flake to a new home.

 

The trees stand reaching to Heaven -

With their praying, barren, hands .

They whisper to God in the creaking wind-

For a time when they will again be whole.

 

Their dark bark mourning the days of color -

 And longing for their swift return.

They wear only their white caps of mourning-

To clothe the stiff bodies in the freeze.

 

The buildings stand ridgely definant and -

Undaunted by the assaulting snow.

The white which cling to the pitching edges  -

Like giants assaulted by fairies.

 

Yet if enough of the small fairies gather -

The backs of giants will break.

The appearingly weak triumphing over -

The appearingly strong on that day.

 

I hide within the giant’s belly-

For all must come someplace home.

It is for the sake warmth and preservation -

Despite the snow gathering on the roof.