Snow Angel

such  a
Smooth blanket
Never t o be  again,
nOt after I jump
on it,            back first, and            swing
my arms and legs, Washing away all that is
beneath me.  i've worked my way almost
to the grass.  And  now  how do i get
up?  Not wanting to  smudge my
beautiful artwork, my friend
stands over me, by the
anGel's  legs, and
pulls me up.  i look
d o w n  a t  i t  a n d  i
l i k e i t  s o  m u c h t h a t
i decide  to  do  it  again.  almost
Every fresh patch of  snow is taken
after  an   exhaustive  search i   finally
find a place and decide:  we  should  make
m o r e  r o o m  f o r  a n g e L s.
o f  e v e r y  k i n d

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