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"To An Impetuous Snowflake" (On Her Birthday)

I. Dedication

Ten years Adjacent storybooks forced to a far end, Seven shelved reference books spread to meet the first ten And the latest past, a chapter book a required text, a must-needs read was volume 17 of your anthology II. Bookends, dividers

Years are markers to sort and order time There are no portals entitled to enter -no swing-hinge doorways: we are door-makers We walk long halls, not that they are long, We just get stuck, or stay lost, or slay time Long, because our indirect steps and latent footfall, we are Lackadaisical. III. Memories Clips of confetti fluttering catch our eye, a pence of what was They are dramas re-mastered sequences quantized, the shorts we store Those that inform on ourselves Impressions kept IV. Reveries Films we spasmodically score set to the music we dream by Reticent elaborations Thought-spun illusions; Be careful of them. V. Commencement

On the first chapter of your 18th book, Do not scribble on the page. Take notes, stick post-its. Have confidence and confide in The Caretaker, Most dreams are pipe schemes Ask for a bearing and row

Don’t let sincerity be a dullness You won’t knock off your shine for Smile at violets, To an impetuous snowflake On her birthday

"To An Impetuous Snowflake" (On Her Birthday) by Nina Ricci ©2014 All Rights Reserved

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