A view on life


The snowflakes gently fall.

How can so many of them falling

not make a single sound?

I watch them make their descent.

I wonder at the beauty of it.

They cover all the branches

of the lonely trees, those tiny flakes;

a world of beauty in each one.

Th white blanket is still


and pure.

I watch from my window,

pausing in my daily routine.


movement disturbs the stillness.

Someone is walking by.

They do not pause.

They do not watch.

They do not wonder.

They walk briskly through the pure whiteness

and leave behind them

a trail of cold footprints

each one distorting the once so perfect view.

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