the snow was perfect:
that light glaze
over bony tree branches,
hiding the yellowed grass,
bathing the concrete
in perfection,
all the while
knowing her purity
would be soiled
carelessly
by the first passing car...
and as the diamonds
gleam in the streetlight
as they fall,
sky that pale tangerine,
and
a snowplow just had to
drive past
noisily,
breaking her spell.
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