Winter on the run sows his white flakes over the sleeping fields
The furrows write long silent letters in their own secret language
As a tired dark sky comes to rest awhile on the wire of a cold horizon
Carrying the heavy snow packed in worn-out clouds coming apart at the seams
The sky is paying for the dowry for its temporary wedding with the land
A bright promise of eternal diamond rings and a long white gown
They all melted away and wind wiped dry the crystal tears of the sky
Photo Hugh Ardoin The French Landscapes Gallery