Snow (A Poem by A.J. Reschka)

Since I lived in Michigan most of my life, I was always surrounded by snow. Althought I detested shoveling it on the driveway, I loved the look and feel of it.

White crystals fall

Upon the dying earth,

Waiting for resurrection,

Waiting for rebirth.

Trees catch the crystals

With their rough, boney hands.

How they have this strength

I do not understand.

As for the rest that missed

The clutches of the dying wood,

They land upon the ground

As gently as they could.

They form a giant blanket

That cannot keep you warm.

They can, however, stick together

To make a humorous form.

Diamonds shine with them,

Their beauty just as priceless

As a child's pair of eyes,

Filled with happiness.

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