The Dust Of Winter Poem by Jacob Bearer

The snow falls like dust
blown from God's forgotten novel -
the film forgotten once brushed away.
But, as if to say, "You love me, too, "
the specks do cling and color bright
those stark maples vainly shivering
to undress the jealous dappled clothe;
and, God smiles at their fresh suits -
white in the open casket of winter.
And, like a father whose son's life sap drained
He kisses the maples' salt and pepper crown
to re-awake green's springtime story,
and forget the grey dust, again.