Like The Snowfall

In a
warm
room,
the sun
shifts
its neck
into
a more
comfortable
position.
Just
like the
time
it snowed
for
the sake of
showing
the
world its
pace.
White
sheets
layering each
street
crack
like a
dove-filled
blanket. The
sky
resembles
a yesteryear
long
gone, and
my eyes
skirt
and dash
around the
kamikaze
flakes,
as they
jump
to
their deaths
without
even
a whisper.
Like the
snowfall,
we’re
angels in
waiting,
and
if
you stand
too
tall, you’ll
indeed
miss the
most
important
call.

M.C. Davis

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