Oh no, I’m a snowflake! The world unwraps In a swirling whirl Of wind-driven mishaps. I’m hurtling, plummeting Unfurled in a flurry. I’m worried I’ve scurried Toward surliness early. But surely I’ll curl In a snowball eventually Sculpted from fragment To bullet, from stagnant To movement. In fact, I’m certain This curtain I’m part of Right now Will deaden all sound As the planet Is hammered with Bomb after bomb, Her tomb is the room I’ve just landed upon.