The Snow

[sorrowslane]

The heat begins to fade,

The chilling air parades,

Across the winter lands,

The rain turns into sand.

It layers itself in frozen depth,

Small flakes building walls with ease,

A handful of the floating ice,

Is weightless like the breeze.

So light as it floats thru the air,

Blowing wildly with each new gust,

In mounds of piling white tasteless flakes,

Makes shelters with frozen robust.

The strength of it in abundance,

A handful made into your own ball,

Buoyant enough to walk on top of,

The wrong step just as easy to fall.

The heat begins to return,

The snow piles slowly fade away,

The winter land is now turning green,

The sand now turns into rain.