Above The Snowstorm
by David P. Spencer


At times the eye can almost see
Between the dancing flakes and shadows
That drift in muted thickness to the earth

And may discern in passing glimpse
Some ghostly forms and distant lines
That hide within a blind and freezing screen

Here eyes near trace familiar shapes
That close reflect more solid figments
Nestled snug inside the trusting heart

Until a gust makes icy visions
Shatter into dazzling silence
And in that awful moment
We perceive






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