One Looks Up

Monochrome winds fantail snowdrifts. Fleck-churned sparks maw feathery flights and a howling backdraft spikes matted fur. Pawing winds spring traps clenched, injurious icicled haunches hollowed. A smothering whiteness whistles through yellow teeth, a smoldering witness from snow that isn't snow, (one homeless person's jaw drops, he looks up,) I wolf down yogurt that drips off the plastic sides, whitening the Los Angeles sunshine where some homeless rest on the reflective sidewalk, all but one, the nimbus of his mouth quakes.