Winter's World
Snow taps my face with frosted fingers.
One flake lands on the end of my nose.
Poised, just for a moment, like a tiny ballerina,
it softens into a drop that drips onto my scarf.
The sky is pillowed and gray.
I tip my head back to watch a million feathered flecks
cascade from heaven—
the breath of angels
who hover close,
keeping watch over my wintery world.
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