Treasure Island

David Whalen

(5/18/38 / Covington Kentucky)

An ode to snow (and a speck of dust)

Began it’s life a speck of dust
One of billions
Bourne upon the air

Transformed as all things must
Be… that blossom both…
Mundane and rare

A tiny mote imbued of moisture
absorbed within… and
Without a care

Tossed willy-niilly by caprice of wind
The mote of dust
Begins to dare

To attract electrons into it’s grasp
With static gasp
And electric glare

Then starts it’s dizzy descent
Joined by another
Commingling to form a pair

More moisture still… gathered as they went
Gaining weight and boon companions
In the gelid air

Now in numbers beyond count and scale
Strange, beautiful crystals form on speck of dust
Bourne upon the air

And softly falls like gentle comets would
In feathery flakes of cosmic dust
Like pious whispers of Lama’s prayer

A simple speck of dust
One would never think
could make

The incomprehensible
The unbelievably beautiful
Exquisitely unique


Submitted: Monday, December 19, 2011
Edited: Tuesday, December 20, 2011
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