Friday, January 29, 2010

Snow.

Snow is flying in the air,
As the wind quickens its pace.
Laying almost everywhere,
Each flake now takes its place.

Glazing the ground with light white blanket,
You cannot even see.
The brown tree branches up against the sky,
Or the grass beneath your feet.

Cold and gray it left the sky,
As if an old and lonely sea.
The warm calm breeze comes swiftly by,
And wakes the sky with relief.