In the glass studio where I work
The door is wide open to winter’s smirk
Snowflakes like cotton, falling from the sky
Passing by my window I just watch them fly
They’re like kamikaze’s; trying to enter in
Only to find their transgression, to be the absolute sin
Oh delirious Snowflakes; the cold must have gotten to you
You’d think the seduction of heat, would’ve been a clue
Now all melted; No snowflakes in sight
I close up the door and turn out the light
2/3/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem