Snow,
in the patio,
soft and gentle,
like feathers, they float slowly
and fall tenderly on the road.
Snow,
on the window,
frosted white flowers,
freezing on the glass,
beaming in silver.
Snow,
in the garden,
rich and puff,
like whipped cream on a crust,
to be served fresh on Christmas.
Snow,
in the mountain,
thick and solitude,
it glistens like crystal
when the sky turns purple.
Snow,
in Oregon,
deep and cold,
it spreads over counties,
it blankets the whole.
Snow,
in this country,
oh just beautiful.