366 Poems: December 8th, 2016

Snowflake

I am a snowflake–

cold and shrill,

pure and fair,

taking my time as I fall,

fall through the air.

Watch me tumble through that pretty girl’s hair

with my visions of the future crystal clear

and a gale-forced heart that blows me higher,

higher than a jazz trumpeteer.

And I know I’m one of many.

I know that soon the variety dies out

and you’ll start to hate the shrillness

as you insist that I’ve been here too long.

.

But god knows you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.

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