Cabin in Snow

Outside a cabin in snow, we are, and hear our, breathing here. And wind in pines shucks

itself through sound like snakes slipping through their summer skins. And it is easy out here. And out

here it is easy to admire an image-aided concept of cabins in snow. And

it is easy inside a cabin now to believe in an Idea of Winter, for notions of snow

furnish our true cabin, consciousness—which, fragile amidst oblivion’s drifts, stays sturdy against howling.