Snow is a thousand flowers
the Chinese probably said.
Hundreds and thousands this morning
dropped their garlands on my head.
Last night the festoons started
long before we went to bed.
Snow is a white furred rabbit
the Chinese probably wrote.
Hedgerows and fields this morning
wear a similar fluffy coat.
Last night the winter danced back
with a white fur round its throat.
Snow is a treacherous fox-face
the Chinese probably thought.
It lurks in wait this morning
for the weak and overwrought.
Last night it laughed its head off
loving the fear it brought.
by Rg Gregory
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