Running through Snow
The black
undersides of your shoes,
the arrhythmia they beat
with your deafblind heart.
The hot-blooded id
enthralled by what falls,
by what fleetingly
glazes you with scales.
The stranger
who will not return
your smile,
who doesn’t believe
in spells.
The school play’s
paper rain.
Always enjoy the imagery, Huck. This one and the blood one. The exercise of your mind upon some object always yields fresh, inventive results.
intriguing imagery ... so much packed in to so few verses, appreciate the word choices!
Now tell us how it lost you a viewer ...