I once found a snowflake
Tucked in behind an old photograph,
Glistening like a lone star in a frost-bitten sky.
The crisp delicacy of its fronds
Frightened me -
If I held it in my hands
It would surely melt …
And it did.
Fragments of beauty floated away,
Disappeared,
Like kittens, unwanted, in a hungry river.
Apollo's hand runs tenderly down
The wrinkled bark of the Laurel Tree.
He knows
There are no two snowflakes the same.