Not quite snow, not quite
Sleet, a melting snow
Falling and falling
Apart into rain
At the last moment
Before it hits ground—
The wind in the pines,
The car on its side,
Other tumbling flakes
All alter the fall,
And, come on, was there
Ever one flake whole
In weather like this?
Maybe at their starts
Each one was unique
And symmetrical,
But in this cosmos
Commingling’s the law.
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