by Aaron Williamson
I once loved a snowflake.
Delicate and drifting with the wind we wound,
she was daughter to a withering drift.
I, her cold breeze blowing through,
she, my jewel on a winter gale –
we were more than we could be.
If I could pull back the sun I would.
If I were more than a breeze, dazed,
dashed upon a blue ridge –
if I were more than a wanton wanderer –
I wanted to be more than I was,
she was delicate,
and I was drifting with the wind.
Jeffersonville High School, 2016