Thoughts on snowflakes whilst observing snow falling outside, through a window at work, January 2009.

They float aimlessly down.
Their cold, soft shapes,
light and airy, still
feel gravity’s inevitable pull.

They blanket the town,
fields or gray cityscapes,
making the nights tranquil
and the days playful.

The shovels noisily scrape
driveways, while the laughter
of children playing can
be heard all around.

An original poem – please seek permission before reproducing in any way.


About Mark

I'm a forty-something Welsh-American. Other interests outside writing/blogging and very amateur photography include gardening, cooking, and sports, esp. rugby union.

Posted on December 5, 2009, in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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