Snow Flurries

March 8,2008

Ah, what simple white flakes fall,

melting in the grass?

What windchimes ring

fiercely in the quick and choppy breeze?

What wild children come out to walk,

and what cynical adults come out to see?

How long has it been since their fall to earth?

four years; eight?

Too long, and still their beautiful lives are far too short.

Their surfaces,

non-sticking as can be;

Entirely too warm in this climate.

Why today? Why at all?

But, gladness comes and

while they're here, I am like a child again.

However,

The sun comes out.

It is all too soon after the icy fall.

With it comes dismay, sadness, and bitter annoyance.

Where have perfect blue-grey clouds gone?

Where is the immaculate gloom that causes such great joy?

Gone as quickly as what was brought, but

beautiful, as well, with its embrace.