I adore snowflakes.

They tumble down,

slipping into the crevices

of my collar and pant legs,

to be shaken or stomped out

of hiding, as I enter the warmth

of home.

Perhaps they are so lonely or blue

that they are willing to melt away

on the mat before they achieve

the acceptance they seek.

The dog delightedly laps up their essence

from the parquet floor.