Las Bailarinas

An Original Poem by Anastasia E. Harper This poem was an attempt to imitate the style of poetry found in S.P. Somtow's books, The Riverrun Trilogy.

Sometimes, I enjoy watching snowflakes fall.

Sometimes, they are falling raindrops

wearing white dresses of gossamer that shine like silver

ho eave to the ground

before landing as gracefully as a leopard.

Sometimes, I wonder,

what is their purpose?

Why do they blanket the ground

as a pure, white quilt?

Does this fulfill their fiery passion?

Do they even have passion?

Sometimes, the world thinks too objectively. 

Sometimes, I cannot bear the objectivity of society. 

It cannot comprehend nonhuman emotions. 

Its objectivity silently burns against all creatures

and all objects until they submit to the oppression.

Why can't snowflakes have emotions?

Why can't snowflakes be dancers?

Author's Note

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