Sonnet to a Theorem

Camouflaged and still
beside old coats
the shape of squares invisible,
though seen today was dim
as nails within a dusty box,
the shade of wood and sand;
behind some planks
the delta winged
upon the yellow paint
stain on the wall; a thought
concealed amongst long handles,
angled in the corner of
the builder's hut; outside
the silent snow still falls.