It's Another Special Day

Alexander Moskovar,
a salamander of ill repute,
steps warily today.

The humans say that on this day
two larger evils intersect
and blend their forces to create
an even greater evil shape
that walks the land invisibly
and without passion, hate, or malice,
flicks misfortune from its fingers
as easily as you or I
might cough, or brush aside an insect
landing on your arm.

These flecks of probability,
tossed like rocks into a stream,
disturb time's flow
and instigate corrupt diversions
where the passing rodent, beast, or man
may find their usual day disrupted
and suffer what we like to call an accident,
a whim of fate, or divine retribution for
some sin we once performed.

Alexander knows this well, but hopes
that his small venture will result
in furnishing a bit of food
for him, and not for something else
that might consider him a treat.

I'd stay to watch, but something tells me
that I'd best be moving on.
Shadows in the forest may
consider me a treat as well
and accidents have happened here
especially on such a day
when Fridays and Thirteenths combine.

Snowflake II

Transformed, floating, falling;
buffeted by winter winds,
swirling in a swarm of others.
Distantly they look like me,
but as they pass I see that they
like me are not alike; their wings
describe an icy pattern that is
functional and beautiful,
yet not my own.  We each excel
and glide within an unknown plan
that unifies us, yet transcends
the limits of what we might know.

Snowflake I

Here in the high thin air,
seeded by a mote of dust,
I begin to crystallize.
I have vague memories
of a windswept sea
and of cold stony mountains
that I soared far above,
too young to be born.

"Stay with me," said the wind.
"I have carried you so far,
and don't want to lose you."
"It's my time," I said,
as I began to slip out of her grasp,
my white lacy wings becoming
a burden to her
an escape for me.