By Patricia Lee Sharpe
Clouds having a pillow fight.
Feathers.
Feathers.
Fea-
thers.
Hands mitten-warm.
Nose, cheeks
stung
by sleet.
I’m alive!
Walk shoveled.
Drive shoveled.
Car swept clean.
Tomorrow
more snow.
Crisp and crunchy outside.
Moist within.
Is snow
like bread?
Big heavy truck
in the ditch.
Black ice.
So hard to see.
Boots,
gloves,
parka,
hat.
Body under wraps.
Face never.
Walking in the snow.
Leaving footprints.
Me
tracking
me.