I carry my house upon my back, Yet never complain when I stay on track. I move so slow, yet win the race, With wrinkled skin and steady pace.

I dwell where giants stand apart, a lower place with quiet heart. Where waters run and wild things roam, between the peaks I make my home.

From scattered threads I’m slowly spun, as many join to move as one. I gather strength from all I meet, then carry all to where oceans greet.

I wear a coat of softest down, But have no need for hat or crown. I whisper secrets, soft and low, And where I sleep, the dust motes glow. What am I?

I drift down cold from skies above, and hush the earth with silent love. I build your forts upon the ground, then fade when warmth comes back around.