Like Snowflakes
By John Herlihy

I
Winter came;
It always does.
Icicles drip dry like fluted paper,
Coming to a point under house eaves.
Breath breathes out as white vapor.
Frosted flakes once floated free as autumn leaves.
On desolate roads, ice crust sparkles under a winter sun.
River ice cracks like the report of a gun.
Winter frost settles upon rooftops in towns,
Hedges and bushes are dressed in wedding gowns.
Snow falls in multitudes,
On a heavenly journey from sky to ground,
In silence, but assuming the attitude of winter sound.

II
Everything seems shrunken, a frozen waste,
The landscape abandoned, the birds flew south in haste.
Sounds that do emerge are muffled and muted,
Random voices in winter are all ill-suited,
To be listened to and heard,
The wind howls when tinkling bells are preferred.
Perhaps the night has some comfort to offer,
The black winter sky, the distant stars,
The falling snow, white against the night,
Covering the land with peace,
Covering with pride everything in sight
The days of winter pass one at a time,
Unique like snowflakes echoing a soft chime,
Until winter takes its leave,
As it always does.