Synaesthesia Magazine Winter | Page 8

8

A solitary snowflake of intent

flutters through the night sky. Its intricate,

soft, crystalline form falls in a suicidal

plummet and melts futilely on the ground.

Howling winds whir like a screeching siren.

The sky turns white as the snowflake’s brethren

occupy the darkness; an ordered charge

from the heavens to take the ground below.

As morning breaks, the people awaken

to a silent desert of icy snow.

Vegetation hides below its layers;

Black ice waits, unseen, to fell its victims.

Invasion

Photograph by: Carlotta

James Tillman