Snowflakes fall
and
I
am
glad.
Not just because
they cover this imperfect world
in sparkling white perfection.
Though they do.
Not just because
they transport me to the magical winters
of my Michigan childhood.
Though they do.
Not just because
they balance nature's year,
in perfect complement to days of summer sunshine.
Though they do.
Snowflakes fall and I am glad because
somehow,
deep down in my soul,
they make me feel more like myself.
Snowflakes fall
and
I
am
glad.
Even when they melt.
* * * * *
A poet named Mary Jane, who is also my friend, invited me to write
a poem a day for eight days in a row. Here I go!
And one more for good measure:
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