it's the accumulation

and the guilt, this is just a dusting, the top layer of early particular snow. i should be happy for mister he's old but he's happy, he poops twice and dances along, he greets a small woman who smiles afraid and stops off the walk please he's fine please go, please go mister and i push his bottom along, he rolls in the white snow, white snow is only white briefly in the city, it soon takes on all the ghost hues of the city, the exhaust, the pee, the bleeding leaves.