Whiteout in my gape
Floating open space, in forest glades
The shadow is shape cast
Catching images, shades of silver
Facing the brouhaha, as snow cas·cades
From the lots of God's cast
In theatrics, with clime wintry
Inside tempo garden of blast blizz
Sound of silence, in graupel, glows with glee
As it does, now to me
© daniel miltz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem