Inspired by the snow dusted drive through upstate New York on the way to Chicago.
L'hiver d'un arbre
Once leaving their usual more draped state
The silent, barren, and shivering trees
In stretching to invite a new frigid weight
Offer a raw and naked form of beauty.
The snow adorning all original lines,
O winter's blanched form of weeping
Paints anew the obscure but divined design
Naught perceived till the dawn of summer's sleeping.
T. Emerson
