“Last Dance of the Perennial Blossoms”

Gliding through the air; falling like

Graceful wisps of silver,

The snowflakes coat the earth.

A blanket of frost spreads itself delicately

On the ground among the flowers and weeds.

In the wicked winter wind,

Foliage sways to and fro

As if performing a dance

For an unseen audience.

Snow-touched petals, weary from the wind,

Wilt and wither in waiting

For a sun that will no longer shine.

One by one, like shards of broken glass,

They fall in defeat.

In the sky

The snowflakes continue to drift downward,

Millions of eyes watching the last dance of the perennial blossoms.