White Parachutes

Snow, to the ground

black stream to ice, canvas white

falling still, slowly, every mite coming down

the snow, gleaming in the moonlight

My eyes, aroused

stuck gazing at the ivory sheet

looking long to the left, peering to the right

I saw a little pearl armored fleet.

I was not wrong; I hear the drums beat

the way the snow triumphs, smothering, clean

how long, until their endeavors complete

they are going to battle, the forever green