From a series of poems written during my stay in Lapland.
White above,
white below,
and a belt of trees.
A perfectly ironed sheet.
Every now and then
a skier here,
makes a ruffle there
on this soft draping,
doomed to melt
in a few months.
Earth here gets bored
of wearing the same clothes
all year around
and requests a change
for every season.
Cosmic & Uneasy 
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