The snow is falling,
falling,
falling.

Gently whispering,
sweetly kissing the ground.

Wet spots on dark windows,
piles of white outside doors.

Shimmering, sparkling
in the light.

Glowing, glistening,
on foggy winter windows.



Lit like gleaming glitter
under lights in the night sky.

Slipping,
falling,
trudging.

A trail of prints,
leaving our mark in the pure, white snow.