Cut Outs From Heaven

They say it will snow--
Sky is one solid color.
The earth is waiting.










A faded peace sign
Ladder leaning on barn door;
Endless snow white field.

Steel fence is bending,
Pushed by by a thousand flakes--
Power of the snow.










Flutter to my side;
Unseen bird moves somewhere else;
Then there is no sound.

How silent the smoke:
Wispy gray from the white roof;
Melting in the sky.

Old King Stump still stands;
Pine courtiers still around him;
He wears a white crown.










Silhouetted trees
Against the solid gray sky--
Cut outs from heaven.

Talking to myself,
But no one is listening;
(Not even myself)