Snow, like being knocked unconscious, stars and flurries descending from foggy grey night, falling softly in your eyes and melting there, paralysis of thought, just sensation, pure sensation, cold tattooing skin, cold eaking leaking breaking in to the nooks and crannies of your neck, your wrists, your ears, your ankles, getting all up in your face and bullying you, faster faster run on home to mama, tell her how I hounded you all the way, blustered, flustered, chased you down the slipshod road, frozen fingers round your throat, crying chill within your ears, don’t stop or you’ll be trod into this slushy puddlestuff with me.

potluck picnic on the back verandah in a warm glut of sunshine, the smell of autumn leaves, geese honking overhead, bees zuzzing in the last flowers, small children digging in the ripe earth with cries of delight and amazement, worms, roots, beetles, rocks, glasses of rough red wine shining like fire on the table, like spirits, like life