Cold Promises

Icy silence falls in tatters
And dances
In swirling white ballerina skirts
On the branches
Of barren leafless trees.
It pirouettes
In windswept haste
Through the noiseless winter air.
It whispers
To the grasses
As it settles, softly,
With numbing grace
On ground that's chill and bare.
It groans beneath my booted feet
As I wander through the trees,
A promise given in the cold:
Revival, preservation, peace.

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