Plans were made and plans were broken. You close your eyes, it all disappears. But you walk outside and even if your eyes are closed the bitter cold wind still nips at your neck reminding you its there. Staring into the mirror, I try to remember how I used to look.
Outside there's fifty snowmen on the lawn. They look ravenous and ready for anything. A squirrel squeaks and squawks, chitters away at the snowman like the general of an army. With a final triumphant squeak, and what just might be a tiny salute of the squirrel's paw, the snowmen started to drift off dispersing in every direction.
The sun slips beneath the horizon and the sky goes from hazy gray to a deep black. The cold and dark descend, twin devils in the cruel air. On nights like these, the moon only comes out when its full, a white suited dancer in the dark. Flitting in and out, reflecting off the snow, the light is true, oh so true.
The candle's flame in the window, grows and shrinks, the wax shifting shape. You're sitting in the armchair, open one eye and see the candle's light singing a duet with the moon in the far off distance. You smile, shift the blanket and fall back into sleep.
Ted Leo
Dancing in the Dark (cover of Bruce Springsteen)
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