Vermont Snowfall
by Sheri Lindner

From a leaden desolate sky drift
these weightless stars spun of
air and water
that disappear on touch
so light
I might have dreamt them up
these gossamer prisms
holy geometries.
Though I cannot hold them
they press one against the other
lovers each to all until
they tuck right into the sides of earth
like a starched clean sheet
on a birthing bed.




 

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