I remember the soft snowflakes
Delicate as lace
Framed by the cold frigid moonlight
Falling gently to the ground.
Shrouding the world in a pure white blanket
Which sought to cleanse another winter
But pure white turned to grey
And the peaceful night became another dirty day.
Alison Jean Hankinson
This is my contribution for d’Verse open night.
The image is from pixabay,