Snow on the Forgotten Lot

The parking lot is a broken patch

of cracked asphalt and forgotten things.

A shopping cart leans,

caught in a fence, rusty wires pinching its ribs.

Overnight the snow came,

tucked white blankets

into every crack,

softened every jagged edge.

But even snow has weight,

and dirt pushes through,

black specks pressed beneath.

The cart’s wheels still stuck in the mud,

trying to turn but always lost.

Cold sun hits.

The snow drifts pile—

a clean mistake

on a place that remembers grime.