Snow
When I was only a child so little, I used to wish for lots of snow.
Transparent elves with tiny tentacles,
Glowing fallen angels
Of the bleak wintry cold.
But when I grew old,
The winter lost its wondrous spectacle.
The white gentle angels
Were trampled by automobile wheels
And covered in mud and dirt
And oil.
Why,
Soft, purifying snow
Why let yourself turn into coal?