Mists of SnowA Poem by DeepshikhaA wind gust. The snow that I've thrown flies up, and into my face. There is nothing greater than that little pleasure.
every burst of wind,
catches me unaware, caresses my warmth, brings cool relief. every little gale, flings pearl-white dancers, they fly to my face, splashing mists of dust. I don't know how, or when, or why, this snow became so refreshing. but I know there is no greater pleasure, than mists of snow, tousled by the wind. no greater pleasure than a splash of snow, dancing against my face, leaving memories of winter. © 2010 DeepshikhaAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorDeepshikhaWhere Time Passes, PAAboutThis is archive for the poetry I've written, spanning back from when I first started writing in 2007. I mostly write fiction now and don't post it on here. Enjoy if you'd like. I'm Deepshikha. .. more..Writing
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