Tumbling Flakes Poem by Samuel Richard Leonard

They're forming bleak here on the brink of yet another winter,
where down I sink, I drift, I crumble and I whither.
Sitting here I try to clear what I call my mind,
but past the brink I can't but think
the end is all I'll find.
So low I lay in my resting place where the flakes grow bleaker still, as I closed my eyes to my surprise some tears began to spill.
Raining down on the ground my heart began to fill, spitter, spattering, sputtering up a green grassed hill.
Though cold it seems down in my dreams my mind sways like the feather cast from a bird, a hummingbird, who's never seen better weather.
- Samuel Richard Leonard