Ballade

Afterward, the snows of yesteryear have ceased to be sharp-bordered flakes and ceased to be little. At some time in their past they seem to have gathered themselves into a single body. We remember that as a shape and also as a feeling within. We seem to believe, now, that it wasn’t cold to the touch.

The Couzinet 70, about 1933. Contrast and detail modified.

Prince, have a care for the down-drifting white crystals modifying the dark. You are the warm body among them, and they serve for your life.