Tis a cold night, 
and it is clear except 
for a patch of clouds that huddle close. 

The Moon decided artwork 
would allow the snow 
to rest in the silence.

In a quiet breeze 
a branch stirs. a twig joins,  
another follows. 

Not from oils or acrylics 
but a dab of color.
a still life takes shape.
Black on white, 
the kind of photo that works 
for these shadows 
imaged by the moon. 

No matter the darkness, 
snow is white, it reflects 
and scatters through the night,
not as clear as her white
imparts the indelible 
mark of her signature.

It’s a cold night, 
and it is clear except 
for a patch 
of clouds that huddle close. 

The Moon decided artwork 
would allow the snow to rest 
in the silence.

In a quiet breeze a branch stirs 
a twig joins, another follows. 
Not from oils or acrylics 
but a dab of color.

A still life takes shape.
Black on white, the kind 
of photo that works 
for these shadows 
imaged by the moon. 

No matter the darkness, 
snow is white, it reflects 
and scatters through the night,
not as clear as her white
imparts the indelible 
mark of her signature.