snowflakes

snowflakes often fall purely
as those haply fallen
into perfect flurries
of unpacked snow

the flakes they scurry
as the wind lures them surely
always gone or going
to where ever the wind blows

I don’t get the hurry
of the snowflake flurries
forever rushing
with nowhere to go

but I forgive their worries
as their flaky forms fall demurely
while comfortably watching
from my fireside window