Aaron Z. // SNOWFLAKES

The snow, quietly

Settling;

The driver’s face, a

Scowl.

I cried.

The streets, so horribly abused; forgotten, neglected.

I was eleven.

Slowly, one by one,

Ten by ten

But there were too few.

One step, two steps.

But I did not care anymore.

I ran toward my bus.

I was going to be late,

I smiled.

I rushed through the street;

Hundred by hundred,

Thousand by thousand

There were too many for me

It was winter.

The harsh winds and

The forces of winter upon me,

Each flake briskly adrift;

Late to the bus,

Late to school.

The snowflakes fell without limit

I slipped passed the closing doors.

I was late.

Dazzled…

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