//This poem was inspired by Charles Burchfield's painting, Six O'clock.//
I am a snowflake,
drifting down from the pinpoint stars above.
Though, from the ground, the are obscured by clouds.
I drift softly and gently,
like a bit of baby bird down out of the immense pine,
the nest where the owlets sleep away the day.
I drift past the cool glow of the crescent moon.
Then I alight,
making hardly a difference on the face of the earth.
Making no difference at all on the slim ledge.
I simply fade into the cold, white blanket of snow.
Just one snowflake among a billion.
VOUS LISEZ
Poetry
PoesíaThis is my world of nothing No end no beginning, Neither in nor out, Neither up nor down. This is the glass pane of a window Hard nothing to keep out the cold. Something no one notices But is always there. Like a single droplet of mist Or the hum...
