Watching the snowfall from the window sill with a cup of coffee grounded in the mill,
untouched unscathed innocent pure the soft fluffy allure,
falling with serene sound I hear each flake land around,
randomly once in a while they dampen my heart's tile,
how easily they lose their individuality to form an infinite white and milky blanket,
the storm is over or so it seems unforgiving winds have left mighty reams,
the sun shall soon shine and the days will again be mine.
By Asim Burman
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