SNOW

Edward Thomas - British - 1878-1917

A strange and sad poem, and one that begins the new year as it must, for us, who enter a world where pity is lost.

In the gloom of whiteness,
In the great silence of snow,
A child was sighing
And bitterly saying, 'Oh,
They have killed a white bird up there on her nest,
The down is fluttering from her breast!'
And still it fell through the dusky brightness
On the child crying for the bird of the snow.