Mask and Masquerade

Tiny crystals in the light
Shimmer, flake, and fall
Collecting in a gathered dance
Covering all
The look of fresh and pure
Painting over yesterday’s road
But somewhere underneath
Frozen, amnesic loads
The same ruts are carved
If you step out, too bold,
You may trip beneath the drift
Slip asleep beneath the cold
The earth is old, but the newness of snow
Beckons appeal in pale patina
With whitewashed skin over rotting bones
What hides below the icy arena
Isn’t clean.