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!

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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.’