Anita Mechler: SNOW

Swirling around your head

Shooting up buildings

And your nose with the force of the underground

Piling along the windowsill

Fogging your glasses

Delightfully crunchy

Mufflingly soft

Sparkling or wet

Sloppy or soft

Packed hard

Filthy with the city

Devirginized so quickly

Like an explorer with a beard

Full of crystals

I trudge through it

And curse the work ahead.

SNOW

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