Fogging-Breathe>>> Poem by Manonton Dalan

i step on a white mound
swallowed me as awhole
i keep still, feeling
if i hurt something
i staggered to get off
only to stumble forward
softness of filed snow

i want sun to melt all
clean top of my car
i have my gloves pushing
snow shovel like cutting
butter in early morning
am enjoying it; filing

long stretch of street
is foot deep, maybe more
when was last time we have
this come to us, very long
neighbors came outside too
were chatting we're aglow