Sparkling in the Sun Snowflakes, drifting, sparkling in the sun on a May morning, as improbable as a pandemic. As unlikely as this rock ambling around the outskirts of some universe sprouting life. As irrational as telling frightened people “all will be well” during the bubonic plague. As impractical as giraffes, platypuses, three toed sloths that hang fathoms above a forest floor. As incredible as tornadoes, earthquakes, rainbows, the still small voice, the presence of eternity. As illogical as you and I victorious out of millions of sperms and hundreds of eggs As impossible as me and you, 30 years together watching sunlit snowflakes in May.
Carol Casey lives in Blyth, Ontario, Canada. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and has appeared in The Prairie Journal, Sublunary Review, Plum Tree Tavern and others, including a number of anthologies, most recently, Tending the Fire and i am what becomes of broken branch. Facebook: @ccaseypoetry; Twitter: @ccasey_carol; Webpage: https://learnforlifepotential.com/home-2/poetry/
Amethyst Review 