Part I Winter
There is a purity to fresh-fallen snow,
the quiet of night, of nature’s repose,
birds, silent now, sleeping in dense junipers.
Walk alone, outside, in midnight dazzle
of virgin white. Snow crunches beneath your feet,
settles on trees, rocks, housetops.
You will discover magic.
Let’s see if I can jump into the challenge of using all the words for dVerse Quadrille and making sense. Today there are only 2: rock and crunch.