A crystal veil

Crystalline by Jo Bradford

...

The Snow

It sifts from leaden sieves,

It powders all the wood,

It fills with alabaster wool

The wrinkles of the road.

It makes an even face

Of mountain and of plain,-

-Unbroken forehead from the east

Unto the east again.

It reaches to the fence,

It wraps it, rail by rail,

Till it is lost in fleeces;

It flings a crystal veil.

On stump and stack and stem,-

-The summer's empty room,

Acres of seams where harvests were,

Recordless, but for them.

It ruffles wrist of posts,

As ankles of a queen,-

- Then still its artisans like ghosts,

Denying they have been.

~~By Emily Dickinson~~