muffling footfalls and the sound of traffic,
bending branches,
putting hats on gateposts
scarves on statues,
and icing on my cake,
dazzling in the sunlight,
prestine, virginal when I woke
and was amazed as always
by the shere improbablity
of something silently transforming
everything I saw.
But it won't last, you know.
A few decades ago it did -
lasted longer than we wanted -
but not for years has it lingered
more than a day or so,
and sledging's altered
into sliding
down muddied,
browning slopes.
Has something really happened
which never can be changed?
Is something
silently transforming everything I knew?
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