.
These first snowflakes are lonely pilots
Flying solo missions. I can count them.
But the sky to the west has whitened
And carries the threat the radio told
.
In only a moment there are dozens more
and they dance in circles and in spheres
Almost in defiance of gravity
But wind is coming.
.
Now they shoot all in one direction
The giant force pushes all into
Angled bullet-paths
.
Here is the start of the storm.
.
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