Snow fell steadily the night before,
falling on both the wealthy and not so,
coating with cleanliness, purity all who
do not deserve and the very few who may.
The snow descended coldly and deeply,
blanketing gravestones and angels alike.
Distinguishable only by their shadows
and heavenward stares and stances,
they continue to designate where bodies
lay and bright hopes are finished.
Despite the softness and the silence,
above the solitude and endless white,
the boundless rage of ended dreams
seems to penetrate upward, to shriek.
First published in Magnapoets