Each flake so light it is not felt Only cold announces its presence. Pines and firs extend their limbs to capture whiteness. Night passes in silence as each flake adds its microscopic weight
until boughs bend urging their burdens
to slide off, relieve the stress.
There is a groaning in the forest,
and here and there a sudden whoosh
as the white weight drops off.
The limb snaps up, shrugs.
As the rising sun brightens the morning,
each tree becomes adorned with diamonds.
Breezes move the boughs and like princesses
in ball gowns, trees shake their skirts,
softly scatter wealth.
(Alice E. Johansen)
|Subject||2.7 × 2.7 cm, Aquarell|
|Paper||300g Water Color Paper|
|Dimensions||20 × 20 cm|