A tiny

snowflake

flutters by my

window and foretells

a storm or other great

adventure. Silently and

stealthily a second and a

third slide gently by, see before

them a clear trail, motion for their

comrades, then, to follow. Fast and

faster still they come and make a film

of white beyond my own protecting window

pane. Soon the little flakes begin to open

wide for me a door, as though to say,

"We've had our fun", and though I

strain to catch a glimpse of my

departing friends, I cannot,

for the little flurry has

ended as suddenly

as it began...