I walked atop the powder snow,
A city beneath my feet,
I stuck out my tongue in hopes to find
A single flake that's sweet.
I let it fall upon my hair
And melt within my hand
Spinning around the hiding sun
Shadowing the land.
The snowmen are all carbon black,
And on the ground I lay,
Spreading my arms and bringing them down-
Making ash angels in Pompeii.