I followed her as she floated in free fall,
admiring all those glittering points of light.
I reached out to touch her glistening face
only to find her cheeks cold to the touch.
Light reflected, not inborn.
Landing with all the others
she froze in place // frigid // unmoving;
unique glory lost in the masses.
Her cold cold frozen heart melted
in the early morning sunshine.
Sparkling one last time, she disappeared
right before my eyes…
Snowflake // so perfect // so unique;
One of a kind ephemeral beauty.
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Peter asked us to consider beginnings… the beginning line of our poem. He noted that the beginning line of a poem makes a person either want to continue reading or pass it by. I have reworked a poem that had a generic beginning and attempted to make it more enticing!
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Roth Poetry 