Float down from silent trees

white bouquets of snow.

In the still air of early winter

bare twigs and branches are outlined

with layered fine snow.  Like icing sugar

or impossibly fine sand a spotless mantle

sits contrasting with the dark, sleeping, Winter wood.

Last night in the silent darkness,

one by one in their billions, snowflakes

floated down through the dream hours.

In daylight, weak sunlight, shadow-casting light,

little clusters float onto the barely frozen water of the creek.

In this image two mountains hover, real or illusion?

For you to decide.