'Murmur in C Minor'

The snow would linger,
it fell slow and lethargic
on the plains.
It's steady lull,
it's crushing ease,
would cradle me as I'd sleep.
And in my dreams,
I'd dance in fields,
with my hands to the sky;
Trying to feel each flake
on my palms.
Trying to thank each one,
for its silent agenda,
for its gentle cry.

e.campagna