318. Blizzard !
Hang on the horizon as a portent of doom.
Diffusion of light, filtered by gathering gloom,
Closes in all around, becoming a shadowy tomb .
The clouds open up, with a vengeance they quake,
Like a dam being breached they let loose every flake.
White crystals fill the sky from a precipitous outbreak,
Clouds have no compassion for the trouble they make.
Whistling winds catch the flakes, like a trumpet they blare,
Blow sideways the snow crystals, whip them through the air.
Where the flakes fall is fate, for the winds do not care,
On the ground they cover everything, drift, and ensnare !
- Glenn Bergen, ( Ravensheart ), © Copyright, 2015.