snowflake 2

virgin flakes land soft explode on the tongue

the taste of promise of something beginning

and ending in an instant then pooling behind

the painted smiles of children.

 

and what are we but footprints in the snow 

laid deep and resonant by crunching soles 

a thousand tiny guides to the end times 

then slate wiped by fresh fall.

◄ snowflake

snowflake 3 ►

Comments

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Wolfgar Miere

Fri 23rd Sep 2016 09:45

Stu,

some lovely lines in this, beautiful imagery.

Encapsulating the brevity and certainty of our mortality.

David.

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