I watched them, frozen in a trance,

The tiny flecks beyond the glass,

Gently trickle from the sky,

Floating through the frigid air,

Covering each thing that they brushed,

With soft, white dew, cold to the touch,

The winter was like,

Nothing I had ever seen,

Or felt,

Or heard? 

The snowflakes were like…

Drops of tropical rain,

The kind that fell loud and fast,

But frozen into icy dust,

And slowed down just enough,

That they sauntered,

Slowly

Through

The clouds.

The cold air felt like…

Heat,

Pouring from the island sun,

But lessened into frozen wind,

And tempered down just enough,

That it sent ripples,

Through my skin,

Forming goosebumps,

From within.

The bare trees looked like…

The West African Iroko,

With leafy branches stretching out,

But reduced to naked frames,

And stripped down just enough,

That when wind travelled,

Through their shells,

No sounds of rustling leaves were heard.