Land bewitched by the breathy ash,
Which falls, unreal, around me,
Subdues my inner ticking
With a single, ringing note

Or the dulled sepia mufflings
Of distorted joy and feeling;
An amber pool of flickering light
and blind entertainment.

The bright, unfocused conversation
Drifting in lazy circles,
Gold silk stretches between us
And smiles become light

My limbs slow, and my mind speeds up.

The fading world echoes these
Surreal rythms, softened life.
 Yet panic blinds and cripples me,
 As the grey fogs take hold

And the 
Snow is gone.