White Out.

Falling softly from the sky,
It covers the ground in a blanket of shimmering white.
Tree limbs bend gently from it's weight,
With crystalline flakes dancing on their tips.
The clouds hang low,
The ocean looks like slate, not moving.
Grey and white are in stark contrast,
Yet they meet with hushed tones.
A quiet has fallen over the land,
Lulled under the spell of drifting translucent magic.
Breath hangs frosty in the air,
Cheeks flush with winter's chill.
At this special time,
Only one thought comes forth....

I Fucking Hate Snow.

Later.