I trace my way through the snow,
my footsteps a history that cannot last
against even the slightest breeze
to tell the future who walked here.
The powdered air is thick and slow
and I close my eyes, waiting for the
snow-globe to be turned upside down
so that for a moment beauty reigns.
Through fog and flake I can see the sun,
that muted orb dancing behind frosted glass,
almost eager to embrace my chill.
When the snow clouds break above
and streamers of light dance prismatically
my world becomes an unbearable glow.
For a moment, the cold has become my home.
For a moment, I cannot remember where I’m from.
How was it that I came to be in the heart of a storm,
how perfect the chaos of cosmic calculations?
I set about searching for the clues of my past.
But snow has covered my footprints again.
Thank you for spending time here.
