The claw

Snow annealed by sun on a tin roof, followed by a cold night, holds together the next day as it slides off the edge & begins to yaw, curling under the eaves: a white claw. I think of a Siberian tiger with corrugations for stripes, hell-bent on breaking out of its fort. The icicles’ dagger-tips drip with their own fluid — saliva of a sort. A wavy sky always denotes a clash of dry & wet: unsettled weather. An ambiguous threat.