To have thought

I have sat here often,

head in the clouds;,

amused by the essence of snowfall,

mused upon the transience of muse.

Like the snow,

such thoughts fall and build,

and before I can construct

the snowman, poem-man,

from the flakery of notion,

they thaw and flow away.

Thoughts gathered into snow balls

garnered for another day

slip away on the ice of time.

To have thought and lost

is better

than never

to have thought

at all.