Frozen In Time

The icicles melt
Off the window
Like sun-dried tears
In a state of contemplation

And they cry out
Screams of sorrow
As their icy selves
Shrink to a drop

But only the tress hears
Them, and they whisper hushes
As their branches sway
In the dicey wind

They say, ‘be quiet
Now because your time is up
Just as our leaves will grow
Back and we’ll be heavy and full’

And the sun zaps
Its deathly rays
As the snow disintegrates
Into light and wind and invisibility