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.