Thursday, February 13, 2020

Snow at Louveciennes (Alfred Sisley), Sonnet #498

My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase. Click here:
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.