Mallows and whispers
Quiet, soft, slowly the snowflakes fall like whispers on marshmallows, wishes on meringues.
Pondering the idea that snow is like Life. Both need special conditions before they can form.
Both float seemingly randomly, until they fade.
Timescale is different, but then Time is ephemeral. Just an idea we try vainly to measure.
It is cold but the fire is on in the front room and pineapple chutney is simmering on the Aga.
Is there honey still for tea?
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