Winter Beauty

Like needles of lace
a cone of snowflakes
gathers,light as air.
A breath of wind, and the flakes
scatter 
into nowhere.

On top of a green needle
a tiny snowflake falls.
It clings tightly
to it's resinous hull.

More flakes gather
tatting like lace,
upon the pine trees
a fascicle resting place.

A gigantic white oak 
my favourite tree,
can hold more life
than either you or me.

Looming high in the sky,
it's limbs, grey and old,
carry a strength 
for the world to behold.

Somewhere, under the snow
a tiny cedar bench
continues to glow.