Autogenesis
Autogenesis
The environment is perfect –
wind speed, temperature, moisture.
The snow forms itself
into balls from nothing.
A few grow
to fist size.
The caller ID on his mobile
shows father.
A message goes to voicemail;
later, he'll erase it, unheard.
He hopes some of the snowballs
will survive the afternoon sun.
R L Raymond, Originally published in “Hungry Ghost”