On a cold, wintry eve
The air snaps with anticipation,
as giant yet gentle flakes of
snow capped majesty
meander about...graceful
as a skater on thin ice, or a
ballerina on the very edge,
a victim of gravity,
down yet onward
towards its final resting place,
there...faintly scattered
amid all the rest
and beyond all hopeful recognition
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem, nice visuals, touch of sadness at end