butterscotch sonata


in the snowflake storm
I have a progress
that allows blase carp
about the mess, armed with
a brush and frozen hands
a vehicle to negotiate the
money-time continuum
but the sparkles in sunshine
the vision of a frozen world
even the slidealongs
my boots let in melt
shuffling along swish splash
peering at the puddles
the doorways the skies
with cold wrinkled hands

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