Snow

Teardrops from heaven
Crystallizing as they plummet earthward
Each in its own suit of ice
Blown and thrown wherever the wind desires

Then the air is calmed
The drops plunge into a mass
They unite; lose their identity
They drift and mount higher

The sorrow is rectified
The golden god comes out
Lifts the spirits of the clouds
And the tears are gone.

Marion Pennell
Age 13
Pointe Claire, Quebec


Page 31
"All About Us - Nous Autres"
Content Publishing Limited, Montreal
1973

"a sampling from over 25,000 paintings, poems, stories, and letters we have received from young Canadians."

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