snowflakes
Feeling confused at the first sight of snow,
but instantly relieved by the the warmth of the day.
You let out an arm from your protective cove,
in white fluffy ice you decide to go play.
Tiny snowflakes drift down from their homes
hidden behind white fluffy clouds, and in packs, of fourteen.
They sizzle and pop on your chilly cold skin.
Red hot embers puff in blue smoke afloat.
The sting of cold is replaced by the death of heat,
quicker than the man can stop the smoke.
11