Cart Wheeling Crystals

Snow flakes Tapping glass One by one, Scraping silence From the pane of autumn’s stare Where they gather In mute reflections, Like moths to a flame Blustering into chaotic rhythm White upon light, Cart-wheeling crystals Frozen in free Falling eddies now Gathering upon a wind, In violent whiteout As a fire stares Back from beyond the hearth A sentinel Of warmth bearing Witness to fair warning From an army of Snow