Clouds that ripped at the seam
exposed the sky's blue skin
with a jagged celestial rip,
casting shadows into itself.
And the icy puddles with motor
oil rainbows and the cigarette filter,
bottle cap, cellophane, and coffee cup
daisies that sprout from the sidewalk
turn their faces to the sky.
And the sun is ashamed, and somewhere
under all this snow, I just might be too.