First Snowflake

By Amie May

First snowflake, drifts from Heaven's hands
lighting on a single petal.

Spun by the careful hands of angels,
complexion's beauty weeps, solitary.

Many the forlorn do fall under the moonlight
glimmering silver hills of silver.

The wind combs the grandeur of accord
as unaccompanied dancers race into the drift.

Enter spring, unawares
unified majesty, unique existance: one winter.