Guillotine

The star said to the snow

‘You be the teeth I’ll be the fins’

And together in this way

Circling around their towns

They never stood a chance.

The flake replied with whimsy

‘I think not, fair sky, I wish only

To dance uncontested for a time

Before I give up the spotlight

Once again.’

The light of night now angered,

‘Good shard of winter,

Mighty blade of frost

Look at them!

Do you not see the way

They parade their injustice!

Come now you are after all

The guillotine of seasons,

This is your destiny

I beg thee do your work!’

The blowing rivers of white

Shouted through the gale,

‘It’s true I cause many deaths,

But know my far off brother

It’s only to ensure

That they can be reborn

Something better something clean

Something like me pristine.’