roused raze i woke to what piteous scraps we'd been given of a promised winter storm. i heard a cluster of clouds weeping on a fleet of roses no eye could see. saw the sun battered into something dull and indecisive. there was a stunning lack of snow, with most of what i'd been taking for granted made scarce after a light rain spent the night chewing up all those clustered crystals and shitting them out kinder versions of themselves. now new snow falls, slanting to the west, or what looks like west from where i stand, and i wait for pellets of ice to tunnel into me and weigh me down so i'll know what running really is. 220217 what's it to you? who go blather from