Pines roughly tossed to and fro,
Silhouettes against mounds of snow,
Then some tiny specks float down,
Trying to reach the frosty ground!
At first, there were so very few,
But, soon they multiplied and blew,
Tossed up and down...here...and there!
Swirling! Twirling, everywhere!
Like white insects that seemed to pound,
Others resting on the ground!
Strong thrusts of wind stir them to rise!
They face this new "threat" from the skies!
Do they defend the land they claim?
Not long ago, they were the same!
The wind dies down and all remain,
Wasted on the ground again!
All defeated....no longer proud!
The sun peeks out from dark, grey cloud!
Each frosty flake had sudden fear!
Becomes a little, fluid tear!
They join together and they know,
When there are many, they will flow,
Off to lower ground and so...
Once the sun sets in the west,
It will get cold and they will rest,
And an icy patch will be,
All that's left for us to see!
Pauline Banning
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