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the muffling silence of snow,

Dampening the earth,

swallowing-up lonely bird-songs like colors into white light,

Snow melting down and along the dark road

carrying secrets drifted off and forgotten.


White boulders boosting white skullcaps of snow

dripping and wet and gleaming in the sun

or gathered-up in drifts, pushed-up around scrub oak and manzanita

as if laying~up a brave assault against the heights,

Before retreating again into shadow.


Everything it touches it suspends, pauses, and holds in abeyance.

A species of forgetfulness reigns here.

Like that surrounding sentences, or words,

or the individual letters within words

All engulfed and stranded in silence.


Snow is a language translated,

like the pine and oak and manzanita, into forgetfulness

Covering the earth so that only the earth can hear

a distant echo of itself.

Reflected beneath the pale and ashen blanket.


The earth cries itself out in puddles and rivulets,

Hoping to be free again, unburdened.

For a season.

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