Everyone else had gone off on a hike. Wind
Ruffled the tender leaves of a late-blooming
Spring in the Kootenays. Parked between
Two empty vehicles, one elderly truck held
An occupant tapping at a screen in hand.
Those should be sufficient coordinates,
Reader, for you to imagine enough the time
And world in which this composition took
Place, an early summer snowflake, unique
Without being all that different from the rest,
World's classic recipe for ongoing self
Creation. It was not ever special to be unique
But to be grossly different was astonishing.
The falls roared in the embrace of the god
Some call Shiva, others call gravity. Down!
Join the rest and be crushed to my breast.
Oh, enough, body thought. I never wanted
To be one of you. I'm already too one of us.
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