Snowflakes sparkle

in the sunshine,

twisting, turning

in the air,

quivering, hovering,

tumbling upward,

sideways, in whirling

spangles of light….

The wind snatches

clouds of white

from the slopes,

sends them racing

by my window.

Gusts cross the

roof, trailing

long smoking fingers,

that tickle, trickle

across my soul….

Editor’s Note: Recently three poems written by Sandy Cosgrave came to me. A Ninepatcher, Sandy passed away in 2016. The above is the second.

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