Well! Glory be!
I woke at nine, and made a pot,
while the coffee brewed.

I stared out the window
into the grey world,
which surrounds the city and me.

That’s when I saw them,
Snowflakes, yes snowflakes,
born on high, they live,
and they dance on the cold winds,

Then as quickly as they are born,
on the warm wet ground they die.
Only for that one brief moment in time,
did they make a difference.

Yet, they all felt, their existence.
Like ours, was essential.

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