Like little feathers,
They touch my skin.
The cold prickle on my nose as they land,
The taste of water fills my mouth
As they land on the tongue I just stuck out to catch them.
They fall from above,
From the grey clouds that cover every inch of the once clear sky.
They are beautiful,
Pure,
They cover the ground that I walk on,
As I continue to walk I leave traces.
They are snowflakes,
Every single one their own,
Together they make snow.
Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
Feel like taking a personality quiz or testing your knowledge? Check out the Ultimate List.
If you're in the mood for a story, head over to the Stories Hub.
It's easy to find something you're into at Quizilla - just use the search box or browse our tags.
Ready to take the next step? Sign up for an account and start creating your own quizzes, stories, polls, poems and lyrics.
It's FREE and FUN.
.com