A snow of petals in the wind, Is the ice cream of frigid flurries, Melting, unfurling, swirling, In a sweet, slow grace. Textures, gestures Linger, So closely held, Cherished As they disappear. Teilen mit:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Related