Snowflakes
Meg
516

I love the beauty and power of this poem, Meg . I’ve read it four times, wrapping around the layers, unpacking the feelings it brings up in me, unfolding my interpretation of the images. This is my favorite kind of poem, one that calls me back to it for all those reasons. It speaks to the hurting part of me that’s afraid to turn around anymore, or talk, or write. Communication (at times just witnessing attempts between others) feels more and more like tripping and tumbling over a cliff. Reading your powerful work reminds me why I ever tried. I appreciate that so much. Thank you.