Overnight our world has been
transformed, the sound of rain
tinkling our doors and windows
when the ambient temperature
should result in soft, billowy
clouds of white snow crystals.
Through bedroom windows a
soft apricot glow spread interior
light where darkness should yet
have reigned, reflecting not snow
but the mysterious light of the
cosmos glancing off evanescent
and bright crystals of ice.
The upper atmosphere has
played its little end-of-year prank
and what has streamed earthward
from the vast winter sky helmeting
the ground below has gradually
inexorably sheathed everything below.
Every tree trunk, limb and branch
has been limned in silver-white
the weight bringing down pine
and cedar boughs to cling to their
trunks sturdily now encased in ice.
Rooftops formerly sugared high
with snow now bear brittle frozen
sheets of sheer ice thickening as
daylight brings night to its close.
No birds will fly this day, nor
furred creatures venture outward.
Few living creatures take delight
in this gleaming beauty of the night
nor the later increase of the bright
and fabulous landscape. Fantastical
traceries of laced embroideries
etched on windows newly glazed
reminiscent of finest Belgian lace.
The treachery of broken boughs
hydro lines breached in the urban
landscape, and roads and highways
rendered dangerous pays homage to
nature's affect. Boundless beauty on
the one hand, cruel danger on the other.
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