The snow in little scurried piles
flat
like those dust bunnies under your bed
moving with the air currents
on the sidewalk
and the grass
grey-tinged at the roots
flat swept piles
and holepunchings. But this is cold
and this is silver. I think it may be glitter,
this snow,
But it's more or less
like the dust bunnies under my bed. | 
