Snowflakes

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

In the end it all just melts away

Sitting by the bluish glow of the nights moon as the chill licks the air. Silently and gently the snow begins to fall. The acrid ping in my lungs gives out as I sit watching each watery diamond slip past, me catching a glimpse of its fleeting splendor. I think snowflakes are memories of lost loves, incinerated in their passions, whatever they were, and carried on the wind away from us in their final moments. Chilled and frozen by time far away from us only to be carried back when we are lonliest, to remind our empty hearts of the warmth of love that once filled them, now departed. They are the icy skeletal remains of a fire our spirits gave birth to, but could not survive, and if you look closely you can remember that feeling for a brief moment before they pass from the existence and evaporate from our thoughts. And as you sit forgetting, what even you don’t know you’ve forgotten, the fog and mist roll in and your snowflake melts by the same moon of someone else’s memory.


Submitted: April 03, 2021

© Copyright 2022 Jason Meikrantz. All rights reserved.

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