snowfalls in summer

snow likes to watch people. she also
likes to compare the seasons as they change,
melting into one another, becoming
something else periodically without pause.

summer is sitting in a tree, kicking a soccerball,
rollerblading over sizzling asphalt.
summer smiles at snow from outside and waves,
beckoning her to come outside and play.

but snow watches white petals and
pinpricks of pollen drift on the afternoon
breeze. they collect and swirl and slide
right through the open classroom window.

snow likes winter, unsurprisingly.
she says winter is cold and mysterious,
but also makes her laugh with his sarcasm.
even when it hurts, she laughs.

but snow also likes summer,
probably even better than winter.
and this is surprising because snow
usually likes the ones with dark hair.

summer is pretty in a sunlight-sort of way,
snow thinks. gold-haired and green-eyed and so
luminescent, inside and out. snow admires
(and even envies) her cheerful innocence.

and when snow is chosen last for teams in p.e.
she sulks, and hates herself for it.
but clever, clever, breathtaking summer says:
"best for last."

and that was when snow
fell for summer.