Snowflakes
Glide listlessly
Through the wooden lace
Of the fingers of time;
All branches now sketches
Of a peaceful night time
Snowfall
Over time, how many flakes have fallen?
Is there snow on other worlds?
How many glaciers stirred to life?
How many childhood memories?
How many armies crushed
By that blowing silence
with impacts like fallen eyelashes.
In the night time dark
Other creatures whose lives
Know no boundaries for snow,
Curl in their burrows;
Beauty is seeing dawn;
For now, they sleep,
And adore their dreams.
Breaths weave their
Cold feathers across the
Skin of softest senses
Beneath an alabaster ceiling,
The light as silent as footfalls,
A caress of finger tips;
The snowflakes small finished thoughts
Of a winter’s eve
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