First Snow

It falls in elegant crystals, forming blankets of pure white. The whitest of the white that you have ever seen. Each flake different to the other, unique in its own way. The proudest of proud the snow has ever been. It dances and twirls, landing wherever it may please, Then melts when touching the warmth of a hand. The newly formed blanket waits for the steps of children, To pierce its topmost layer and create footprints as they go. Round and round, then scrunch them together, Clumping angelic flakes of white into a compact ball. Like the glittering remains of angels that may fly through the sky, Or the tears of a loving god, looking down at humankind. Tongues are stretched out, under the blue sky, Of children trying to taste, the taste of the snow. And as one lands on the small tongue, it melts in delight, As the child eyes light up, a snowflake I have caught! But then as the day comes to the end, and the children rush back in, To their mothers calling for hot coco, The snow forms another white blanket, Waiting for the kids to come out again, soon.