I am awakened this summer morn to a world gone white,
to the stillness of a world with my soul muffled
by the dense snow-like mantle of change.
As surely as silting snow disguises, then dissolves
the raucous colors and forms in Autumn’s garden,
leaving me this summer morn—vacant.
Walking in the stillness of this unexpected day I ponder
colors and forms of that which I was but no longer am.
I lay myself in the soil of my muffled soul, draw around me
a chrysalis of silence, and ache for Spring.