Sitting in my car ass-backwards in a snow bank,
the explosion of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring
not to be compressed into the crescendo of my fate,
I was reminded of the dual nature of snow,
gravity, and left curves. How destiny is a
snow plow not too worried about oncoming traffic.
Even after a near collision there’s little to do but drive,
knowing well enough the cold silence of passing, the chills
that run through the spine, the black ice beneath our feet.
the explosion of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring
not to be compressed into the crescendo of my fate,
I was reminded of the dual nature of snow,
gravity, and left curves. How destiny is a
snow plow not too worried about oncoming traffic.
Even after a near collision there’s little to do but drive,
knowing well enough the cold silence of passing, the chills
that run through the spine, the black ice beneath our feet.
By Ryan Lappi
1 comment:
Love this, Ryan. :)
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