Grey clouds of night

The air crisp and clean

And the sky without moonlight

They fell virtually unseen


The air is empty of sound

Branches of trees hanging low

The wind is not to be found

So the limbs are laden with snow


As the silent dance hurries

Spiraling effortlessly down

And the air is filled with flurries

The Snow Queen dons her gown


She dreamingly dances in the snow

For now, forgetting the world of the



January 17, 1987