Wooden shrine wrapped in a snow storm
plays host to a figure wrapped in black
floating above the blanket
disappearing into the blizzard of ice
Wraith bone gaucho, sallow horse
cross through the blizzard
where the cacti
The snow has been tumbling for days now. The hills are enveloped in its blankets while the mesa has vanished in the flake filled haze. The sand flats are now a tundra and the sage bushes have disappeared, the cacti wear graupel cloaks. No one dares to leave the village, travelling too dangerous.
The gaucho is free to roam the frozen tundra. Sombrero sheathed in ice, poncho cloaked in snow the gaucho leads the horse, devoid of flesh through the storm, ashen prints left in the snow. Cavernous eyes peer through the film, snow flakes come to rest in skeletal hands before rider and horse bound through the snow, old bones disappearing in the blizzard of ice.
Deep in a valley resides a shrine. Constructed of wood it receives a solitary visitor. Winter arrives, bring with it blizzards, immense snow storms that block out the light. Yet during these flurries a lone figure visits the shrine, drifting over the snow, shrouded in black. Still before the shrine for a moment the specter moves, fading into the blizzard of ice.
Come morning there are no footprints to be found.
“Blizzard of Ice” is a Leonard Cohen lyric I love and I just wanted to do something involving it.