Silent White

Snowflakes are floating all around.

They swirling, blowing, whisking across the ground.

It traipses on roofs, and is cradled on branches.

It dances in a blistery breeze, and spools around fence posts.

It makes a blanket of shimmering white as far as the eye can see.

It tucks into every groove.

Glistening layers stack upon fallen logs.

It spreads over the grassy fields and onward toward a frozen lake.

Snow covers the mountainous peeks and trims the rocky cliffs.

It fills the smallest crevices.

Mounting it slows the swiftest pace.

The snow has arrived in silence.

Falling from heaven like crystallized tears.

The bitter cold burns. 

There are infinite snowflakes I behold.

It is a beautiful sight but has no mercy.

Frozen water doesn’t comfort the thirsty.

In deadly silence it consumes all in the wood.

Deer, moose, and elk walk with muffled hooves.

Old growth tree branches bow in weighted white.

Packed with ice they appear ghostly upon the mountain ridge.

In the sun light they reach out with a windblown silvery mist.

Icicles form heavily on every ledge.

They are the deadly icy fingers of winters’ grip.