| Snowflake Memoir In November the sky wept diamonds, for a few dumb hours the world fell mute. Bathed in shades of violet life took on startling simplicity. Silent moon lite hours filled tell-tale signs of passers by caught unaware of an invading nation of dust. Odd, for all human variety, each snowflake unique- the cosmos ensconced in a fortress of ice falling into an existence so transcendant a single instant becomes a lifetime. The miracle of being repeated without thought meeting the same precarious ending the warmth of a touch. ~Vicki Somers November 26, 2002 |
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