it snows in my yard, like tiny men that fall from the sky and arrange themselves in fleets to smolder my home. I want to stand with them; they're leaving, though. They sink softly where they land and soon will call others to cover their places. their remnants is sweet and silver; just visible is emerald of grass and of pine--they let them breath, it seems their mercy is lightening. I could sit at my window and watch them march, in hundreds they ascend, but i latch my clothes together and listen to the stillness; the battle is wading..wading like hunger in marshes. They wade for us to step and dangerously, quietly, I step with candid perches--and all at once they pound. a noise too loud--they notice. fall fall fall they drop out of clouds and cover my face and hands and arms and tops. everything visible is theirs for the taking! and they take it, oh they take it. they are stealth--victoriously they tumble slanted, and they notice..all at once..that the sun peaks over the edge of the waking earth. they seem to pause--i pause, i can feel the tension building and crowning the dark. I search for my zipper and pull it straight up to my chin; I'm ready for them, i attack now. AND I BURST INSIDE--the snow soldiers are taken aback and they try to hold me, but i run and pummel their white corpses; I'll never stop. I throw them up and mix them; the lines are broken. I shake the branches and millions of angry lieutenants crack and sparkle onto the ground. I am the ambush, soon it will be light and my battle will be won.
they may come another night; another struggle in the war.
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