Flakes come to us on wings of thunder,
feathered drops to tickle the face,
pile up like dandruff,
blow about to settle over vacant lots
and vacant eyes that cannot see
the beauty of their wintry voice.
The spark and flash,
the transformer's blast
turn all to darkness.
And still they whiten our world
with rumbles.
Snow rides with feathers
on wings of thunder.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 11:40am on Nov 05, 2024 via server WEBX1.