head full of snow

'When the wind blows and the rain feels cold 
with a head full of snow 
In the window there's a face you know 
Don't the night pass slow? 

Sound of strangers sending nothing to my mind 
Just another mad, mad day on the road
I am just living to be lying by your side 
But I'm just about a moonlight mile on down the road 

Made a rag pile of my shiny clothes 
Gonna warm my bones, 
I got silence on my radio 
Let the air waves flow, 
For I am sleeping under strange strange skies 
Just another mad, mad day on the road 
My dreams is fading down the railway line 
I'm just about a moonlight mile down the road'

the rolling stones

the leaves of the trees in your yard screech low like cellos; it is too dark to know where the narrow path leads, creeping as it does to the right and then out of sight, but that's where you go

a head full of snow: have you a head full of snow? is this the origin of your ghostly glow, your emaciated smile ?

your hands are warm anyway

a head full of snow. it's a feeling i've known (we were all clean and young before we were grown but the nights are cold, and through the smoke we only seek the heat

that we need for our own)

your face in the half-light, the shadow of your collarbone

of course i can only close my eyes,
remember a song

stirring up the stations of the radio. my vision adjusts to find you moving slow, your eyes ignited by a lighter's adjustable flame, beautiful mouth, a perfect bow, and

a head full of snow

i shall lay back on this table and watch the stars explode. and i shall not cry because i am too high to remember how.

i have a glass of wine a cigarette and the rolling stones
and i peer through frozen eyes, hear through a wall of snow

(as do we all, i know, because we all have felt the pull. along the narrow path, that's where you go)


to calm a feeling that is stronger than your bones, that threatens to grow darker than your immeasurable black pupils know

a piece of carnelian, cellos, a head full of snow