Creative Corner
Virgin Snow
3rd December 2010
Fresh feet on virgin snow,
Find shelter standing old and stout,
Knew by nature where to go,
While rogue crystals seek them out.
No collective question: why?
Just urgent drive to own the ground,
Like kisses falling from the sky,
Take their places without a sound.
Childlike weather tantrum,
Let the world stop!
Street and park is sanctum,
Redeeming all, drop by drop