[for lack of snow]

this is a serious time everything
it does to you is aimed with the utmost
precision the pressing clouds the
heavy raindrops etching themselves
into your skin

you don’t even leave the house
without an umbrella in hand anymore
and your boots pair for pair stay soaked
for the rest of the year something in this
air turns your lungs inside out
whenever you slow down to think

the weeks to come will not put up
with tardiness but you have trouble
to keep this speed up at all
feel yourself slithering to a halt at
every stoplight almost falling or
more accurately offering the least
possible resistance

you have gone down this road
a thousand different times and still
you’ve never been quite as stunned
as this – and I mean that in the
literal sense – you’re unable to move
not even for this wind sharply
humming you a rhythm
to dance to