First

useless spears against

the humus’s black backdrop,

then collapse

to heads hung down

in puny lampshade petals:

collapse without bud-burst.

Autochthonous, unsown,

their whited time

condensed,

they bell in clusters.

No tongue claps

and will not stop.

The freak wind blusters.

Down on each silent chime,

fresh snow drops, erasing as it settles.