Morning Poem, January 5, 2017

 

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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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Copyright 2017

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