Perhaps a poem?

I admit it's a bit word-vomit-y, but that's kind of the point of free-writes. I half-heartedly apologize for the following abuse of the semicolon. I was tempted to go get a sweater when I wrote this.

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Snowflakes spitting down from a grey-crowded sky; the sun is blotted out moment to moment, here light there dark; and the icicles feed and grow slowly then faster as the sun disappears; a finger of ice pointing in accusation toward the ground; grown large grown fat grown indolent a handspan, a hand, a wrist, a man’s arm sculpted drop by drop and filled with poisons washing off roofs, even as the downward point trembles in the air; not yet formed and wavering on the cusp.

A break in the clouds, the snowfall broken for a breath or two; the window fogs as I stare out, too close to the glass and I remember; the dream I had last night took place a week ago, when I might have still had hope; but now I am tired, bowled over in the coldness, blown forward over the freezing rivers and tangled in the bare crowns of trees.
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Should I do any sort of revising, the semis will disappear. They're just very convenient, very visible separation markers...especially if I decide to arrange this into a poem of some kind. I was kind of thinking that each phrase separated thusly might become an individual line. (But that's no guarantee I'd keep them all.)I realize, as it stands, that it's hard to read and a bit clunky.

And yes, I did mean "crowded" and not "clouded."

~Later