The gentle dance of the snowflake as it drifts in the wind
Mimics the fanciful dreams of the sleeper.
A collection of small, meaningless knick-knacks
Arranged on the bookshelf with more rhyme than reason
Sits next to tomes and volumes filled with more prose than passion.
The grooves of the floorboards gather and assemble dust
Into coherent columns to be swept away.
Somewhere overhead a cloud swelled with gray
Pulls back the curtain to let us watch
The pas-de-deux of snow.