just this

snow dancing in the kitchen to Kings of Leon
me falling in a million pieces out the window

snow taking form and staying warm and happy to be barefoot on a cold floor,
me wisping, gusty, a farewell blanket, a white flag at the war's end,
i've broken up every moment and every expression and stumble into a small flake
and will continue sprinkling until i have given all of myself to this city.

snow walking to work, wishing it was homeward bound, not knowing where home is,
talking to colleagues and being sent home, trudging in chunky heeled boots,
thinking all the way back, each step a thought, barely touching the ground,
me still flowing from somewhere in the sky that can't be felt or seen, covering
the grime of the streets, playing with children and dogs and mothers and birds,
as they make chunky balled people out of me, trying to put me back together.

snow you are sitting on the couch knowing the month has arrived, the leaving,
this pregnant pause of nature so gracefully frozen, so knowing and wise.
me hugging the rooftops, laying claim to a place just for this one day, just this,
i fall and fall and fall,
and may not be here tomorrow,
but you will know that i came.