Sudden snow swept white orchard trees
so fast my rocky path soon blurred
with tangling sheets of billow-stirred
snow-petals thick as swarming bees
that swirled, bewildered, mazed and tossed
a day I’d given up for lost.
Gusts tripped my steps as clumping stars
circled and teased my clouded sight
and grasping hands, streaked my hair white
like sudden age without the scars
of knowing, drifting blindly pleased
to somewhere—then the blowing ceased.