From a Breeze

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 –
if only.
I wanted to be more than I was,
but

she was delicate,
and I was drifting with the wind.

Jeffersonville High School, 2019