Morn
has brought
a changed state.
Overnight, snow
adorned tree and branch
with ethereal charm.
Treasure the beauty of it!
For tomorrow it may be gone,
melted into glittering riv'lets
of liquid, reminding us of what's lost.
For Mrs. Micawber, who introduced me to this form of poetry: Ten lines, each having the same number of syllables as its line number.
And thanks to my dad, who sent a picture of this morning's view from their windows.
Thanks Ginnie! It's lovely. Our yard looked pretty nice this morning too, but the snow was already falling off the trees in chunks by 8 am. It does feel as though spring is rushing at us like a freight train.
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