December 9th, 2011 § Leave a Comment
Beneath the moon the snow is so bright that the air above the snow attains form. This luminence becomes a space that can be traversed. Before the woods, where the bare trees cast shadows and disrupt the light, my three dogs on their leashes. I am with them in the midst of the luminence. The dogs give out their whine. Something moves out there, over the hill where I can’t see. It is all I can do to keep them on, crossing and snapping, halloing the dark. The chill in the air rises in me. And the dogs who will not stop. It is wrong that we are standing here, through the air that is so bright.
Advertisement
