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Warmth, Scene I

I stand on an Icebound Peak.
My hat itches, in an irksome way.
The chill in the air is almost painful.
My coat is inadequate--or is it my heart?
The day is clear, no clouds--
dazzling, blinding rays of light pervade the landscape.
There is no sign of life on the frozen slopes I have conquered,
but I find redemption in the subtle ambiance
of the reluctant winds.


Like the beginning of a new song, the stark white landscape
suddenly fills with a thunderous, distant rumbling.
On an opposing slope, the jagged rock has been cleft by
the frozen forces, tearing me away from my piteous thoughts
of self-loathing, and tearing copious amounts of snow accumulation
from the mountainside.’
As the avalanche gains momentum, the earth shakes
and a strange, warm feeling comes over me.
I watch the avalanche smash into a low-lying rock formation,
white splashing into the air.
I hadn’t noticed, but my heart started beating again.

I am no longer chilled.

My frosty breath floats upward, dissipating, moving on.
I followed suit.



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