Snow Flake Each One Sought Poem by James McLain

From the slope off the graceful mountain
she is always
the hand that never closes
falling it is from
without solid form
is now white
cold filled
thirst falling
falling is voices crying
darkly more than the flakes
of all cistern's
I am of he made
doomed is souls
hades in made asking of me
burning souls
remade image of
slain flakes snow to
lay stained all to know
hurriedly I turn
to go
lest I melt
in a pool as that of none few ever come back
except one.




Happy birthday
Daughter of
six....16 april 2009