the lucky flake

Snowflakes fall one by one.
Frozen tears of midnight skies.
Silently lingering on sidewalks,
waiting for each passer by.

Their short lives whisper in cold agony
silently living a short memory.
The memory of falling in silent dreams,
becoming one and growing thin.
Softly like a father rocking in streams
of glitter intentions and faded attentions.

But there is that lucky flake.
That single flake with its single short lived memory.
The memory of a boy.
A boy who kissed the snow.
A simple kiss.
A gentle kiss on the nose.
A kiss lost in a memory
Of lost snow.

she writes