Monday Poem: Snow Storm

[Every Monday (until I run out of them), I’m posting a poem of mine that has fallen out from the submission process for some reason. In most cases, it will be one where I’ve received no response to my submission for at well over a year or more. Maybe the magazine I submitted them to has folded, the submission was lost in the post, or whatever. So, these poems can be seen as lost, orphans, of uncertain status, or something like that.]

Snow Storm

Here is a moment I found
just for you.
A memory of winter days.
Tip it up and see slow snow falling.

Take this memory that can sit
fragile as a snowflake
in the open palm of one hand.

All the memories,
fading under falling snow
as the world is enclosed, limited.

It is like learning to grow older
taking a small fragment of the world
that can be our to keep,
and learning how to care for it,
to realise about edges, borders, limits.

We let it all fall around us
like slow snow falling,
like a scene held under glass.