Snowflake 632565000012

by Carl Santoro

My shovel plowed the thin crusty ice
topped with sleeping snow, snickering.

The northeast sun commanding both
to acquiesce, transform to liquid.

I wondered, could this stuff have
travelled from the skies over Fiji, waiting?

Sweating. Okay, that's it. Giving it my last plow.
A beam of ice light brings my attention to my feet.

Melting before me is a snowflake 
like I've never seen before.

It had a barcode. I had a barcode reader app.
Leaning over, I aimed. "Low Battery"…"Dismiss"

 YES, YES,  Dismiss.
But now, the flake from somewhere

keeps its origins unknown in
a sky blue puddle. Snickering.