Hush of Snow

Oh single special snowflake there,

so sweet as nature made,

fall, drift, and twirl without a care,

and never seem so sad.

I wonder how you grew that form

with arms that reach and branch,

and where you learned to so perform

your random, ordered dance.

Now dip, now rise, now fall again

to tease the earth so near,

as if the ground held pleasant pain,

desired, and yet feared.

Fall deep within the gathered mass

of shining flakes that touch,

and see what grows as time flows past,

so little, yet so much.

See all the earth wrapped up in white,

blank ice, and no green lush.

Bare emptiness before the sight;

and ears: a quiet hush.