She walked
into the falling snow and felt
elated by the music made.
As though she was falling herself,
with each step she sunk higher into the ground.
From a cadence only she can hear.
Every crunch her ball and toe made
she drowned
just a bit more than usual. It sent shivers
up the calf
passing inner thighs and torso
crossing mounds and valleys stopping just at
her ears.
She wanted to extol the notes she heard
into the wind
for all to know.
But usually if one is not pleading for help
people tend to become impatient with
you.
Oh! I am so sorry
I didnt know you were running late, even so do you
fancy a listen to the snow with me?
Doubt anyone could recognize
any sound beside melancholy and helplessness
or
melancholy and bitterness
or
melancholy and melancholy
anyways.
Not that she minded much, poor bastards dont know
what they're missing.
The thought actually tickled her throat
and she embraced the furtive song only
she could hear
in between each fallen but uplifting note.