When she began, the first snowflakes
fell gently, hanging sparce in the black
air. Each one that landed on her coat,
on her hair gave speed to her footfalls.
As she ran, the snow, too, gained speed.
It began to lie in an altering blanket on cars,
began to make the crack in the sidewalk
look gentler, easy. She left her doorway,
all sharp corners, her life was rough
concrete, but she returned to a smooth
blank doorway, to the trash on the sidewalk
converted into idylic hills and valleys
in the tiny world of a single street.