In every flake a soul.
I watch them swirl and fall,
caught in a dreary storm
of November; bleak and fierce.
It began in shyness,
it began in vain,
but grim October rain
has turned to winter at last.

In the heart of the storm
stand you and I alone.
Clinging to a dreamy show,
amidst a fiery glow,
we wrap our burning thoughts
around each other's fingers.

While inside every flake outside;
a soul, a lonely traveller,
swirling and falling.
You and me are on a halt,
a needed stop, you know,
a time to keep from becoming
like that falling snow.