Scarred Snow

Snow

White achromatic clad on the ground
Comes the sharp falling oak leaves
Loosed by a fierce changing wind
Tossed like many spinning blades
A rip saw dancing end over end
Many rotating teeth all zig-zagging
Bouncing airborne and back again
Flipping left to right twisting right to left
Tumbling tossing twirling slicing
Touching cutting tearing to shreds
Every inch of its once perfect surface
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2017
About this poem:
I am often marveled by the patterns left in the snow by the wind blown oak leaves.

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