Ode to Crinkles
by Nicholas R.

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A blanket of white snow,
soft and sweet, falling over the rich soil's tendrils
all packed together, tight in a box.
Tiny blades of ebony
struggling to touch and have a taste
at the captured.

It had its seasons too,
for today it burst with warming radiance
and yesterday there was no light,
but the evening breeze came to play
while lovers danced throughout the night.

I bowed down and kissed the ground.
It was soft and cool to my touch,
like an evening sprinkled with silver suns.
My senses filled with the scent of love
clothed with ruffles and laces, a brown gown.

I preserved it.
Like a chimera, a compound substance,
like an infatuated lover who dreams of ephemeral desires of the heart.
For dirt returns to dirt
and soil to soil,
the snow shall melt and winds will carry
the ruptures of last night's moonbeams.