Claire’s Christmas snowflake

There are snowflakes that last

and then those destined quite

to crash,

and those some would argue

theologically were designed 

to melt no hearts but

die on their way down, as

blackly

crowning 

unsung achievement.

But your snowflake 

for me was

always meant to be: and

even if you meant it

not at 

all, the love I felt when out 

of line reminded me what

it was like to love.

So for me, for

ever, your snowflake will last:

from when it leaves a 

silver lining to when it

hits me on my cheek,

ruddy and old and close to

decay; but never dismayed –

not any more.

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