Flake 09.13.2005 With it brings a shroud of silvery dust. Coating a blanket of frost wherever it journeys, Breeze of the winter roars across the endless plains, Calling the land beasts into hibernation. Murky sky marks the frontline of the army. Armed with arsenals that can silence a crowd of thousands, Shards of geometric perfection mark their presence. Delicate they are, every landing may spell death Even the warmth of comfort may be fatal. Little they say to protest such injustices, Instead, with solidarity they adorn the world into a land of paradise. Corpse left from the engagement blends with the earth Into an elixir of vividness and vigor. Rejuvenation much sought after finally arrives, Arbors again shine with their earnest greens! People of the town think that winter is here, Yet from their calendars they were told otherwise. So why has the bar of mercury dip so early this year? They couldn’t tell. “Is it because of shift in mental maturity?” Probably not. One thing is for certain though, Cold and dry makes room for joy and sorrow. With no haste must your hand wipe those tears away, Regardless of either sort. For they might become the next flake that elegantly descents from the Gray. --

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