Snowflakes

 

I have been thinking of snowflakes these days. When you have to stay too much in bed ('cause everything has a price, hasn't it?), you try to find something on Tv to forget pain, dizziness or simply to kill time. So accidentaly, I found this poem in a movie that I have never seen before and I remembered my snowflakes, in a rainy day ... Melancholy is just another Memory. And I sit at my window, looking and hearing the drops of rain, hearing a nice piece of melody, but I think of my snowflakes, of how much I miss them and the laugh and a winter ... I'm glad that Autumn has come, because winter will be here soon. And snowflakes remind me of lost innocence, of simplicity, of breathing, of skating, of a kid who loves winter, of cold, sweet December ... not the December from the last year, but of my December, a far away place and space, in time and in me, full of ... snowflakes.

 

I’m crouched on the axis of the sun

Seated on the edge of my cloud, 

Womb pregnant with thought. 

Have I been made into this snowflake? 

Or has it been made into me? 

I hate these generous handfuls of snowflakes; 

Like pennies, they slip from my clenched hands, 

And they are never enough.

(Being Erica)