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the reservoir of crispy cold wind flutters
like dandelion seed flitting through the air
a musical breeze begins to roar
spreading white sheets across her rocky skirts
she lifts her hem expecting a manicure
to tend her granite toes
blustery snapping air
moves her avalanche of rushing pale freeze
she reveals the depth of her white demise
flashes to horror and imminent stop
no sycamore water lily or animal
vanished with the valley
the mountain shrugs
settles her skirts once again
sits upon her quartz throne
for another day of wind
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Author Notes
***Picture from IStock***
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Copyright 2024.
Lea Tonin1
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Lea Tonin1
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