Snow today
But only a few
Wispy blustery affairs
Yet sufficient
To remind me
Of that day
On the road over the Pennines
From Greenfield to Holmfirth
Ostensibly the road was closed
But being young, foolish
And filled with bravado
I passed the road closed sign
Thinking
If I can get up the hill
Then it’s flat, or downhill
The rest of the way
And if I can’t get up the hill
I will turn around
Then it will be downhill
As I come back
Surely you see my logic
On the so called easy bit
That is the flat bit
The road was
Only a car widths wide
With twelve feet tall
Drifts of snow
To either side
No room here then
For turn around manoeuvres
To go forwards
Or to reverse
They were the only options
Pure white snow
Clean white snow
Virgin white snow
Yes, virgin territory
For the brave one
Slowly becoming terrified
By the abandoned
Snow virgins
Time moves on
Time moves on slowly
With only a single colour
To keep one company
With a singular concentration
To focus upon
Keep going, keep going, keep going
Keep those wide wheels turning
On no account pause, or stop
But watch the temperature gauge
Keep an eye on the fuel level
And the tyre pressure
No way today
To call in the AA
Today is before
The mobile phone was invented
Yet this is the solitude
Which you dreamt of
This is you
You alone with nature
Yes, this is the silence
The silence you dreamt of
This is you
You alone with the snow
Absolutely, this is the heaven
The heaven you dreamt of
This is you
You alone with the light
But is this the end
The end you never did dream of
Is this you
You; fading, or emerging
