When the Snow Comes

When the Snow comes. the catkins lilt, sway in a long prediction to soon ! Mothers clock, gets it wrong; It actually is non fiction Now pinned! escape is futile destined! Snowflake blades cut a frugal slash It actually is so crucial: Time, the sway moves to being frantic, Its late! a lean becomes a fall, a grounding now its very erratic! On the shoulder its talon grips; an ending? it deepens its arrival, no decline! Soothing now, its eclipse. Time, its final fall, Catkins must seed a re-birth! all that had been,on a simple tree; now guaranteed to succeed! And what of the coming Snow? that came! the bending twist, of stress on limbs, left in the now Sun, to outgrow.