
Snowflakes in the sky, in my hair, on my hands,
On a rink. They dance down, snuggle up
To each other and, stripped of choice, agglutinate.
Dashing blades maim their congenital six-fold symmetry.
Little kids make breakneck pirouettes;
Me, trying not to lick the ice.
A lamp post spotlights my clumsiness.
All of a sudden, there's a sign in the sky:
White and red and white flag.
I'll think of freedom and suffering,
Injustice and hope.
Will I think of hope?
I hope I will.
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.