The snowflakes that is, as they spin & fly with grace & joy. The wind singing along merrily wondering if anyone is really in key. Huddled inside, in the warmth from the fire & radiant heat, I watch in curiosity. How many flakes will swoop down appearing like angel wings? Will it be a dance with the multitude of trees bowing & clapping in their firm yet flexible character? Dis-attaching a limb or 2 or 3? As I get ready for sleep to induce some dreams, I know I will be witnessing the entanglement of the dance come morning coating the green as if it were a sea...
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