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only one week of calendar
winter left, the first snow
of the season fell, clung to
already budding branches.
stooping to record ripples
in a sidewalk
puddle, a clump fell straight down the
back of my neck, a direct hit. snow
makes the familiar strange,
preconceptions of place are
rearranged, a city erased.
walking aimlessly across
an unblemished plane, i
feel a fleeting frisson of
freedom, no path ahead
& the footprints behind
me fill in, leaving no
trace. i melt as it
accumulates.
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