The canvas was white.
Specks of gray danced across,
swirled and twirled,
leaving a dust of gray behind.
Scattering across the white field,
fluttering and leaping until
caught between the crooked crevices,
stopped, joined hands, bowed.

Specks of ice snapped off the top edge.
Crumbling down the plane
melting, liquefying, splashing
into fragile pieces,
scattering across the surface,
rolling down the canvas
slowly.
Water swarmed around the gray pigment,
bulges of gray bubbled the surface.
Droplets merged and grew until they bursted,
flooding the distorted crevices.

Seconds passed,
minutes passed,
hours passed.

Everything is blurred.
A mud of gray.