It’s cloudy so you can’t see it’s a full moon tonight. There’s some planes flying in the sky making bright lights against it though.
Last week there were a bunch of snow moving bulldozers of some sort up on the snow hill they make out of snow they take off the streets. When I drive by it again tonight it looks like a snow cliff. There’s a big chunk missing out of it.
Last year the ice mountain, much diminished, was still there in June. It was dark brown. I think because as it melted down the dirt and crud that was in it was getting left behind on top. Little rivulets of water trickled out onto the street beside it; the top of The Allen, proving there was still snow and melt going on inside.
I grow tired of making the edits to my novel. I am ready to take on new territory. I think. The landscape around me doesn’t change.
1 comment:
that mountain used to be your heart. soft and melty inside, filthy and course to the sun. then the big pile became a puddle in the gas-fume]-fed grass. now the new one is being built white crisp and pure. and this time we'll revel in the muckyness.
Post a Comment