Blizzard by Richard Dinges, Jr.

Time ticks in pipes
that grow and dim
with hot water
rush, a slow dissolve
absorbed by blizzard’s
roar, windows white
whirls against
cold hard panes,
world blurred into
tiny fragments, perfect
crystals when water
stops its flow,
falls from frigid
sky and plants
upon glass before
it slips away
into time’s flow.