Snow + Shovel

Bitter stagnant pointless caked on
covered in sharp surface marks from the rain
remnant of the season change

layered in hard packed snow
caked in hard packed snow
my home beneath it all

there is no hard packed snow on the west coast
we cannot struggle so against the weather

I do not own a shovel
when the snow comes
usually in a wave of a deep down blanket
I lay out in the road my head on the curb
and let the soft white cover me
my mouth open, letting the wave come over me
the world in white
no scrapping noises, no horns or lights
everything is finally still and my heart beats quiet
the snow won’t last like in the midwest
the snow can’t cling to a thing
the snow stays soft