Snow-rain

It sounds different. It's not just rain because it's tapping the sidewalk harder. At the window, it bounces off the paine and makes a perfect arc before dropping below. It sounds crunchy and looks like the stuffing in a hacky sac, except in a foggy, transparent color. I'd like to hack with this snow-rain. It would have more skills than I do. I might learn a move or a trick.

If it were colder, all the hacky sac stuffing wouldn't melt once it hit the ground. I'd sweep it into a pile and pour it into the bright red sac I made out of the Japanese Maple leaves in the front of the house. I would sew it up with the grasses that haven't gone yellow yet and then drop kick it down the street as far as I could. I'd like to see it land and explode.

I would then lay down right there and let all the snow-rain tap my face. And when a car would drive up to me, the driver probably wouldn't get out to see what was the matter - he'd honk and tell me I was in the way. But I'd convince him to join me, right there in the middle of the road. And we'd smile together at the sky.