The sun oozed over the mountains ridge,
a flash fire in a line,
turned mornings haze to briliance
a chromatic at a time.

Its rays caught crystal ice chips
which lay as diamonds sown,
converting them to rainbows,
washed across the snow.

The field before my window
in that just-right-moments show
transformed to a shattered stain glass sheet
sparkling in fallen sleet.

My prisums tied to the curtain rod
changed walls to fire flies.
Yellows, greens, violets
shaped flickering, shimmering smiles.

But then the sun arched higher,
the glasiers pallet dimmed.
Velvets, purples,burning reds
faded into white.

The frozen field sighed, resigned,
waiting for the night.