I'm counting up the bits of snow that fall onto my face.
I stick my tongue out eagerly to see how they might taste.
Dreaming: I am falling. Knowing: that I'm blind.
I sit in snow in drifts so deep — space and time rewind.
I'm counting down the time I have inside this tiny place.
I shiver slightly and I'm so weary: stuck in a des- perate race.
Thinking: I am worried. Knowing: that I'm blind.
I stand before the great white canvas — untouched by all mankind
