1 December 2012

Black trees, rigid in the chill, 'Gainst white landscapes for the kill, Eyes, above lips, masked in scarves, Through windows, snowflakes willing carves.

Numb soles tread out the sleet below, Upon the street where hail stones throw, Gloves, hanging loose, soaked to the skin, It's time for snow to soon begin.

MelchiorJ13To Soon Begin • Opuss № I