On October 20, the first snow accumulation of the season fell on Reykjavik. Then Eirik composed this verse:
Reykjavik’s snow rested on ground
an October morning autumnal delight.
Its fair flurries had fallen at night
on the sleeping city at sea-shore’s edge.
But the winter wonder, welcomed too soon,
had melted down in muddled drizzle,
with a likeness of memory left in waters
that the well of wyrd had away taken.
Copyright © 2014 Eirik Westcoat.
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