Catching Snowflakes On Winter's Palm
Like a dancer in a swan-dive
A snowflake floats down
One might say it was falling
It looks more as if it were dying
Shot down by a bullet of wind.
If one looks closely
One could see wings
Tiny feathery things
Pale dusty butterflies
A speck of plaster from the gray ceiling
A silent descent from heaven
To join the ranks below.
A landscape of colorless stupor
Lodged like splinters in the window,
Spread shattered tips in hopeless flight,
Broken, lay tired on the earth's surface
As if the snowscapes covet the sky.
Piles of endless, endless snow
What difference would one make?
A grain of rice to tip the scale,
A birch sapling within a wood.
A flicker of thought, forgotten,
The snowflake lands on gathered dust
A soft ending to the fall.
A/N: Yet another written for a school project. Ah, do forgive. Reviews please?