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[Cyril Darkcloud]

There’s a mutedness

 

that comes with falling snow

 

that muffles sounds

 

and changes sight.

 

Life’s usual colors fall silent

 

as Ground speaks with

 

a brighter voice than Sky.

 

And whispered songs

 

from the distant edge of sight

 

drift into view

 

and call to the eye

 

in the startling tongue

 

of trifles vested in white.

 

 

 

Voices change in falling snow

 

and footsteps alternate

 

between playfulness and caution

 

within a quietness soon to melt

 

in the busy light of sun.

[Guest wordphoole]

Ahhh, a lovely rendering of the perfect and quiet sound of snow.