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Snowflake

Each individual snowflake is
visible
pure and unharmed
against the chipped
red
exterior of the beaten down Volkswagen.
I pull on my
hat
and step
into
the snow globe that does not need to be shaken
in order for the flakes to fall.
And under my sopping purple mitten
my hand is red
like the paint of the car
as I wipe snow off the windshield.




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