Sierra July
Scissors and hole punch at the ready
One in either hand, she flew through cloud
Breath forming cold, forming ice, heavy
Snipped and clipped cut-outs, until snow fell
Generated geometric shapes,
No two alike; not one permanent
Poet's Notes: Besides writing and reading, doing art was one of the things I cherished growing up. From painting and drawing to cutting shapes (as in this poem) and building models out of Legos or play dough, art has always been a creative outlet for me. I consider writing an art too, of course, and put more time into it than in other crafts, thus this is an ode to my old pastimes--with a little fantasy added.
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