Spring snowflakes fall. You know, the fat, wet ones. The ones
that hit the warm pavement and spread out. When I see spring
snowflakes I think about snow in the summer. How far would a
summer snowflake get? Would it land on the ground? Would it
melt in the air and fall as a fat raindrop? What would it do?
Are you like the summer snowflake? Elusive, unpredictable?
Where will I find you when I have given up hope?
I love how the poem moved from what the poets sees and can know to boundless questions and the unknown. Such a powerful end line:
‘Where will I find you when I have given up hope?’