a snowball that picks

by Ellen Sander

a snowball that picks up everything in its path, picks up
        the affair you thought you got away with, the umbrella on the bus,
                the wrapper you dropped behind your back
                        on the trail

        a snowball that picks up everything in its path, picks up
                the beer can by the side of the road,
                        the cousin’s birthday you pretend to forget,
                                a tip left on another table back when
                                       you were broke

        a snowball that picks up everything in its path, picks up
                the insult muttered after you thought you hung up,
                        the child forgotten at school, the takeout pizza you’ll eat
                                all by yourself

a snowball that picks up everything in its path, picks up
        the tempo, the pieces, the paper, the pose, the past,
                the peril, the pressure, potential, the placement,
                        Velveeta at the grocer’s on
the way home