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.