Billions of Them Floating Down

Thick snow flakes falling
Outside my kitchen window
Make no sound at all.

Forsythia bush
Bears only white flowers now;
A winter frosting.

Perched on a white limb,
Female cardinal is waiting
For me to pass by.

White road once again
Born again with each snowfall,
Leads nowhere at all.












Crows cut through the snow
With their blackness and their cries,
Sailing through the sky.









Perched on a white rock
A chubby white sapling sits
With its arms outstretched.

Thick flakes fall swiftly;
Billions of them floating down.
Car tracks are covered.













Footprints in the snow
Head towards me and pass by.
(I had left them there).