augury doggerel

Friday, February 04, 2005


It all depends, of course, on where you sit. Where I sit on the bus, the doors swing open and all the cold comes in and I am mumbling to close the things and get us on our way. The steam rolls from my nose and down my chest and it's too cold to hold my book and read.

But then the door jams open with the frost and we are off through snowy pinking woods, a morning open-air ride through the trees.


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