
Snow falls
pianissimo
melts to pointillism
on my foggy window.
I wonder at how
it gathers in the crevices
of fences and trees
like hair growth.
The way it splats,
like a fresh cracked
egg yoke
crescendo.
The way it leapfrogs
like children in a row
as joy explodes
fortissimo.
I’m not that special.
These are but
a few frosty moments stole
diminuendo.
©2024 | K.F. Hartless
Cover Art: photograph by billemory.com





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