Snow falls off the roof A ruffle and soft sound thumping, falling down It’s cold here, but inviting and quiet. I feel strange wanting but stubbornly resisting till I get my way. I let go, I release. And the ruffle soft sound slides along the tracks of the tin silver roof of my home. Is it good enough? Whatever I have underneath? When it comes down to it, will I settle uneasily? Things open and alter before the change serpents into something I can see. I can move. I can breath. I can think I can speak. So I can. So I should. So I will. When I hit the ground I’m not just for now, I’m here and I wont not see what sounds like stars falling I’ll live under extraneous circumstance I’ll dance even though I’m average at best And I’ve got to stop taking No for an answer when I’ve already decided that it has to be Yes.