And today the snow was frozen, laying across the ice of the river in spiraling shapes like cartoon ghosts.
Waiting for the bus to work and it took me -
looking for the breath of its wheezy engine smearing the air
and shuffling my numb feet up the step -
and onboard and away we go and into the wide and the white and
my eyes were aching trying to fit the picture in
with everything turned cinemascope all epic vistas of mysterious hills and frosted delicate trees
the kind that are killed by postcards.