The sun's failing light, filtered through earth's heavens,
Now amber, bouncing through the ermine-clad woods,
Entreats me to pause and watch as I stand on snowshoes.
It's a loud quiet, drowning out life's cares.
Tree limbs, stressed with snowy burdens,
Arch and form a walk-way trellis over the miner's path.
I duck as I pass, careful not to disturb His artistry.
I've seen this wonder many times but yet it's new.
I am praying but without words, transfixed
At the splendor of the moment- fleeting,
This day will die, a victim of the night.
But sublime is this little slice of time.
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