The quiet flurries of snow descended across
Only visible while passing in front
Of dark yet muted evergreens
Standing stoically in the snow.
The chill outside was felt inside
Notwithstanding the sweat-bearing windows
And the trembling heater in service.
Just as the cold was felt within,
So too were past experiences reflected inside,
Their factual intensity diminished over time
And their clarity impeded by the accrual of more.
The seagulls carving through the air from tree to tree,
Swooping and curving in graceful lines,
Were in fact playing in the falling snow.
The intellect of man, clever in its nature,
Serves the self but how dangerous to follow
Its command when not infused by the spring dawn.