Traces of Solitude

Circling the drain, faster and faster
Into the dream-vision:
Unfolding plains, swept with snow-dunes, triumphant in their arcs as they strum the hard brown ground,
The wind whistles with the vestiges of the snow from these plump plumes,
Sharp and brittle is the shrill hum which pierces the ears and frosts them over,
Descending the mind into a lapse of reason;
Marking the miles you sweep over horizons,
Trekking into frontiers unknown.
Sublime earthquakes pummel underfoot from the rippling of snow-dunes,
Unsure of your ability, you stumble
Only to find your abode—its entrance covered in icicles forming a winter’s prison.
Snuggled in the vast expanse of desolate winter wastes,
The Earth becomes your blanket
From the rampaging tempests which swirl around you—
This is your home,
Forever
And
Ever.