The Saturday strewed snow from the dark sky.
The first white flakes were falling onto earth.
They knitted thin white lace. And dried beige grass
looked too magnificent to take gaze off.
November broke gray clouds more and more,
pressed them to earth and wind wages rose high up,
involving small white flakes into fast flows.
They smashed against wet surfaces, thawed up.
The evening frost turned wet into thin ice.
The starry ice drew tight lots of fine pools,
looking like patterned and well-made, with patches
on graphite cloth of a wide road and roofs.
The Moon were counting down white fragile plumes
by faint gold beams. They sparkled with every touch.
They filled the evening air with faint shine
and made a little brighter coming dark.
by Thea Ariss
15.11.2025/17.11.2025
The first snow
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125111707208
Свидетельство о публикации №125111707208
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