Two A.M.

See from my window the snowflakes falling,Myriads of crystals, none just alike,Down through the beech tree wiggly-waggly,On to the cold frozen breast of the earth

Quiet the night, as soft down in motion;Back of the clouds, the winter moon glows;Shadows grotesque, lovely and ghostly,Pattern the sheet that blankets the ground.

The cardinal and junco have sought a safe shelterWhere bamboo offers retreat from the storm.Like a tired sentinel at the end of the watch,The hemlock is nodding ’neath weight of the snow.

No leaf to crackle, no sedge to whisper,The marauder comes forth to marauder about,But the hoot of an owl disturbs his grim mission,And back to his hide-out he scurries again.

Now dimly come the morning lightWhen sleeping creatures open their eyesTo see a world transformed since twilight fell,To wonder where the trails and paths have gone.

How different from yesterday at noon,When browns and grays all nature seemed to clothe,Resplendent now, her robe is white and pure,Till sun or rain reveals the naked form.