They “fell in love”
They way a group of kids had a snowball fight
In the back of their granny’s yard
He rushed and grabbed fresh powder off the ground
Carelessly squishing it between his palms
Creating something ball like but not quite
the ball was not a smoothly polished one but rough and choppy
With bumps all over it, almost falling apart
But he was so eager to throw it at someone, he didn’t bother
To even look where his hand was aiming
Something ball like landed on her cheek
That turned red and icy
It hurt a little but with time
You couldn't even see the redness anymore
He rushed and grabbed some more fresh powder off the ground
He threw again
A different cheek was now a victim
of his whim
Another boy
sat quietly under the tree
Discovering the little snowflakes
that looked like crystals
If looked at
at the right angle
And shining bright
He picked up little crystals with his palms
Watching the crystals shine a thousands colors
Under the beams of light
He gently squeezed the snow
between his hands
hands warm enough to melt the snow
And smooth it out
Making it icy, solid
Like a rock
But beautiful like no rocks are
He placed a glossy snowball in his palm
And realized
it wasn’t meant for throwing
He didn’t want the ball to be a cause of pain
Nor method of destruction or revenge
Nor shallow fun, the one that makes one happy and excited
But only shortly, until the redness is gone
He placed a snowball in her hand, without a fight
Without chasing or a scream I got you!
He definitely won the snowball fight.
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 5:00 PM UTC
They “fell in love”
They way a group of kids had a snowball fight
In the back of their granny’s yard
He rushed and grabbed fresh powder off the ground
Carelessly squishing it between his palms
Creating something ball like but not quite
the ball was not a smoothly polished one but rough and choppy
With bumps all over it, almost falling apart
But he was so eager to throw it at someone, he didn’t bother
To even look where his hand was aiming
Something ball like landed on her cheek
That turned red and icy
It hurt a little but with time
You couldn't even see the redness anymore
He rushed and grabbed some more fresh powder off the ground
He threw again
A different cheek was now a victim
of his whim
Another boy
sat quietly under the tree
Discovering the little snowflakes
that looked like crystals
If looked at
at the right angle
And shining bright
He picked up little crystals with his palms
Watching the crystals shine a thousands colors
Under the beams of light
He gently squeezed the snow
between his hands
hands warm enough to melt the snow
And smooth it out
Making it icy, solid
Like a rock
But beautiful like no rocks are
He placed a glossy snowball in his palm
And realized
it wasn’t meant for throwing
He didn’t want the ball to be a cause of pain
Nor method of destruction or revenge
Nor shallow fun, the one that makes one happy and excited
But only shortly, until the redness is gone
He placed a snowball in her hand, without a fight
Without chasing or a scream I got you!
He definitely won the snowball fight.