The sun rises and it is chilly,
teeth chatter, though I find
it is worth the frosty wait.
The first of the season comes
and I am pleased, warmed by the view.
A plume of pleasure under a cold nose
as the camera shutter clicks,
capturing every lacy flake.
They melt on an iron rich land
until the earth is just as cold.
It is pink at first turning white as light.
I am blind in all this bright, dazzled.
Disappearing in the storm,
there are only red footprints
quickly covered by the falling snow.
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