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To A Snowflake
Pretty snowflake in
the sky,
What manner of license have you to
fly?
Soaring down from a great, dark cloud,
You contribute your bit to the cold,
white shroud.
Little white
snowflake from up above,
I wonder if you ever dream of love.
What manner of life do you really
live,
You tiny white, ornamented sieve?
Do you ever dream of
days gone by,
As through the winter sky you fly?
Little snowflake, can you really talk,
As on cold streams of air you walk?
Must you always melt
and go away?
Will you really return some other day?
Perhaps I, like you, should fade from
life.
Maybe this is the answer for ending my
strife.
Little snowflake,
wish I, like you, might fly
Forever in the winter sky.
For life and love grow colder as days
go by;
Soon to fall, and melt, and die.
By: Carl L. Booth
Graphics By:
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