Acrobats

by Otto Selles

Blame the blanketed
lake and the pale sky
for offering no
sense of direction—
no definition
of where snow
should fall.

But maybe snow
of this cottonball
kind is itself
at fault and suffers
from an unsure
sense of the snow’s
true vocation
to pile up by
falling down.

This snow
prefers putting
on a show
somersaulting
on a flying trapeze
mocking any need
for a net below.