Small flecks of snow
move down so slow
in front of the church
out the kitchen window
.
Each moving along
waltzing on and on
like a soul
ground below, then gone
.
There across the lot
it is my flake I spot
drifting free and pure
filled with fear I am not
.
In flesh it’s silly how
I struggle to find you now
oh God, my God
what a gift of life you allow
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