Snapshot

It wasn’t just the purple shadows
that I wanted you to see,
not just the snow-jeweled trees
or the swirling filigree of sky.
It was more than spellbound breath
adrift in silence. A snowflake caught
soon leaves empty hands. I might wonder
if it’s memory or dream, that moment
too full for one to hold alone,
this knowing  why twilight skies
bring sighs of melancholy.

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