Metaphorical Writing for 5/2/2013

Again the ice preceding snow hit early on my back wondering if it was in disfavor with the weather.  My back and I were not being favored, and I can still feel where it hit, as if waiting for me to come out with bags in hand.  Like needles not letting me escape to the safety  of a spring tempered apartment too cold, but safe from penetration.  I did not mind the glassy faceted cuts coating everything, but my body did not agree and wanted no part of it.  On the way home, I noticed the stores closed or changing location and felt sad I had not been a guest at some of them, but annoyed at the Walmart going from renter to owner.  I was sure the other sellers in the small strip of stores would pay for their departure month after month.  The new store bigger, but with not much more in it and deals bringing things down to what their value was like an overpriced dress on sale.  Who were they kidding?  At the last stop light before home, two black birds sat a top the arm stretching out the red light, green light to the center of my lane.  Small black bodies facing each with no defiance.  One spoke out, but not loudly, and the other listened.  I wondered what they were saying to each other standing there in yet another icy down pour during this strange faux winter.  I wondered if they asked each other in bird about the weather and corresponding events. ©Roseroberta

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