Photographic Poetry – A Short Story of a Snow
by Andrew J. Nicewander
The crisp and cold air whips my crystalline frame all around and atop all the proud mountain peaks standing high, sitting tall
I soar like a bird or a cloud on the wings of the wind as I dance and I sing making art in the sky
My heart sings with glee as I look down below at the beauty of snow and of tall craggy hills ever cool, ever stone
“I live such a life” do I think as I fly all around in the swarm of my crystalline brethren in skies swirling ‘round and around all the tall rocky giants, aloof, ever quiet in calm, cold repose