Heavy Laden

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An army of snowflakes falls from the sky.
Drifting to battle, “Attack!” is their cry.

Floating with purpose, their target acquired,
The trooper-less chutes, have found their desire.

(A) regiment of flakes in formation stands,
Upon a branch holding more weight than planned.

Legion on Legion the branch bends down low,
Defeated at last by new-fallen snow.


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