Every snowflake is unique,
The singular result
Of all the environmental agents
Acting around and upon the instant of
Its birth beneath a cloud.

(I take the speaker at their word,
neither knowing the how nor having the will
to dispute such an unqualified assertion.

I set the question aside and accept -
It's all that I am able to do.)

Pushed to the left or the right
On shifting winds that carry
Some aloft rising past others
Fast finding the packed
Ranks of the fallen,

Each one no doubt asserts
The importance of identity
In carving one's own way
In our wintery descent
Through life.

(And yet I will ask
of what possible practical use
is being unique when in the end
they all act the same?)