Snow at Louveciennes (Alfred Sisley), Sonnet #498

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My Human Disguise.

When the snow first falls it perfumes

The air; the myriad features

Of our world are made sweet and new.

Growing deep, flake on flake costumes

All but living moving creatures.

When shadowed, it blushes gray blue.

On warming days the snow falls first

From slanted roofs and tree branches.

Foot-thick boluses slide and burst

In childish avalanches.

The snowmen in every yard

Will droop in sun, at night freeze hard.

Before melting, snow turns dingy

And sad. All beauty is stingy.