I observed
By the window
An old hard wooden chair
Looking out
White oblivion
Falling flagging failing
Spiralling cartwheeling dizzily falling
each snowflake is unique You whispered with reverence as if letting me in on a secret
if you listen carefully you can hear each fall from the clouds rubbed against the sky
I heard nothing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem