when it snows, it doesn't just turn the ground white.
it turns the sky to grey like ash from a volcano,
or the foamy waves in the wake of a boat.
it covers the trees in an airy marshmallow cream
and the goat looks like a walking snowman.
snowflakes melt in my hair leaving behind
miniature orbs that gleam like glass.
it invokes memories of past snows, of
evergreen trees and tromping through the woods.
fresh snow reminds me of memories.
when memories are first created, they are clean, vivid, fresh.
over time, they become trampled, and smudged
as other memories come into our minds,
and eventually they disappear, leaving only
a small, distant trace of what was.
other occurrences will remind us of those times,
just like a fresh snow-fall reminds us of one past.
the snow will melt, but the flowers of spring bloom
in thanks to it, reminding us of the snow.
memories may become faint, but new memories will
be made that remind us of the ones past.
just like the snow reminds me of last year,
and the year before when the snow fell.