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AuntShecky
01-02-2008, 01:48 PM
Vocation

Snow is ever silent but still it calls.

Take, for instance, Mr. Wilson Bentley,
the gentleman farmer from Vermont.
He had an infinite selection for his
life’s work: he could have chosen
sunflowers or rainbows or starfish.
Instead he chose the snow –

as individuals, that is: some five
thousand dendrites in all, lovingly placed
under a microscope and photographed,
each crystal painstakingly treated
like a priceless gem from the Holy Grail.
He wanted to find uniqueness, Wilson did,
the sui generis quality of each ephemeral
flake, like himself, one of a kind.

Let’s test that concept, you and I.
Look outside. You can see them.
There must be billions – - gazillions! --
of them each vying for attention. Put your
boots on. Grab a piece of black velvet,
a slide, the camera. I'll take the
snowbank on this part of the parking lot,
and you can start on the other end.





All Rights Reserved.

ampoule
01-02-2008, 03:24 PM
I like this sooo much. It reminds me of how much I love cutting snowflakes from paper. I can't wait to get back in school. Well.....that's not exactly true. I will force myself to wait out these next four and a half days. ;)
It is a wonderful poem Auntie. Is your affinity for the artist or his art?

PrinceMyshkin
01-02-2008, 05:23 PM
How wonderfully zany - and do you know that the Inuit (formerly the Eskimos) have a multitude of names to distinguish the different varieties of snow? Other than "snow," I have just two: magical and pain in the [deleted].

Xillus_Xavier
01-02-2008, 10:03 PM
I love it when it snows because we rarely get it here in Alabama.
Of course it can get down to 13 degrees like it is right now but NO snow!

This poem is excellently written and I enjoyed it thoroughly.