silver shroud of new fallen snow

if beauty were beneath the surface
mirrored sky refracted,
like roots frozen groundward
downward upon the autumn floor

a sheet of leaves sparkle
like the twinkle of eyes
beauty is pearched in the mirror,
a silver and black contingency

the pale shroud is blue from below,
a squelched sky, bright like the moon
caverns of ice, adorned with lapis and marble
perfect expression smiling,
grey light punctuating the face,
where a smile might hang

seven flakes of snow on my palm
diamonds melting in the sun