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A man in a field walks through a storm. Snowflakes on his eyelashes blur his vision. A man in a study believes in snow, believes in the truth of snow. A man leaves traces as he walks. His tracks ornament the field’s blank. He meanders, doubles back, evading, leaves imprints that the snow erases. A man walks. The snow falls. In a study, a man devotes himself to snow. He reads from the book of snow. He composes wintry axioms. “Snow: Atmospheric water vapor frozen into ice crystals that drop on a walking man’s eyelashes or lie blank in an unwritten field. “Snow is a conflict, a confusion, a yearning. Letters are desire. Margins are melancholy.” The storm disappears. A man squints at blurred words, Resumes writing, Shaking snow from the page.
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Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 6:42 AM UTC
david-adamson
Snowstorm
A man in a field walks through a storm. Snowflakes on his eyelashes blur his vision. A man in a study believes in snow, believes in the truth of snow. A man leaves traces as he walks. His tracks ornament the field’s blank. He meanders, doubles back, evading, leaves imprints that the snow erases. A man walks. The snow falls. In a study, a man devotes himself to snow. He reads from the book of snow. He composes wintry axioms. “Snow: Atmospheric water vapor frozen into ice crystals that drop on a walking man’s eyelashes or lie blank in an unwritten field. “Snow is a conflict, a confusion, a yearning. Letters are desire. Margins are melancholy.” The storm disappears. A man squints at blurred words, Resumes writing, Shaking snow from the page.
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