Cold clinging to your coat, with every step.
Mist settling on your skin, with every step.
Stones grinding into your shoes, with every step.
Whichever way you twirl, the leaden canvas stretches for stroke after stroke.
Each tiny tread reveals another piece of ground,
With no hope of a left or a right.
Twinkling sprinkles of light seem to flit, but with every deadly stare they disappear.
The slithery mist swathes you sprightly, feeling tighter and tighter with every step.
It takes a nimble tumble over some uneven ground to escape.
Bowling boundlessly, cascading into all things stiff, bristly, sticky and squidgy.
Risking an open gaze,
All is still again, save for
The twinkling sprinkles, now
Nearer, larger, brighter.
Every fine stride gives the twinkling sprinkles homely shapes,
All warm, solid and dry,
Away from the mist.