Small Stone 2/28

The only unmelted snow sits on the windshields of parked cars.

SS 2/27

Feather-light snow flakes fall slower than the rain drops.

Small Stone 2/26

A crescent shaped cradle glows in the dark.

Small Stone 2/25

 Toothpaste leaves my lips tight and tingling.

Small Stone 2/24

Multiple layers in different stages of drying disintegrate under the hot water; clumps, goo, and latex skin shrink to rubbery strings which my fingernails scrape from the bristles.

Small Stone 2/23

My hands are crusted over in dried spackle. While still moist, the paste was light and fluffy like whipped cream, except that instead of oozing and dripping between my fingertips, it crumbled.       

Sall Stone 2/23

The ducks, from the pond they call a lake, are calling out tonight, and one is yowling like a cat in heat.