There is fear we say. Snow breaks over our feet.
The school bus drives away, a blizzard of young faces
at the windows. We fall sometimes when ice changes
the earth and to reassure ourselves we insist
there are no disasters here. But the day meanders
against our impatience as snow engulfs our bus
again and again. Inside, children carve frost-flowers
down from the windows to watch them melt against skin...

- "Children, Do Not Mourn The Snow," by Christine Klocek-Lim, is continued here on the wonderful poetry-photography website, November Sky.

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