What Beast Came By Here?

It's too cold to snow?
Ten degrees and the flakes fall.
Who says it's too cold?

They're small and streaking
These legions of all flakes--
A white urgency.

They still are dancing
These flakes in the bright sunlight;
Birds hop in the bush.

 

 Flag in the brambles:
Dead leaf held by the branches
Has nowhere to fall.

UPS truck stops,
Dusty khaki cube stands still--
Immovable block.

How can the sharp cold
Mold such soft  sensuous shapes
In the gentle snow?

 

Lying on the bank,
Brown leaf reclines in the snow
Striking fashion pose.

 

 What beast came by here
Leaving these purposeful tracks
Into the forest?

 

In the frozen swamp
The cat tails are still standing
Proud, tall and erect.