![]() ...A Poem by Ookpik
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. . Snow falls gently this Saturday morning - blanketing the street, the windshields of parked cars, the branches of trees - with a soft veil of fresh powder. . It's peaceful; the city stays indoors and the snow, as it falls, makes a delicate kind of sound, a light brushing as snowflakes . land in place. . . peaceful, singular, one temporary respite in a multidimensional and complex world. . . all of this is chance. . . .
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Added on February 8, 2025 Last Updated on February 9, 2025 Author |