brushing each other for warmth.
the frozen ones snap off, dance in the wind.
they land, barely touching the ground
before they are swept up again, away.
they kiss the sides of houses, greeting.
connecting with each building, being,
as they move into the blackest night.
no time to rest, forever traveling, dancing.
visually manifest that nature is fleeting.
their short lives in time with the seasons.
born from the ground, killed by the sky.
alive for just a moment, a brief visit.
no different than the lives of you and i.
when our winter comes, we die.
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