Crunch, underfoot, a cricket,
Trip, fall headfirst in a thicket,
Lost, mind wandering blindly,
Do not disturb me lest I die, thank you kindly.
The night's repetition envelops me,
The moon's smile glints off the tracks, key,
To taking me home again,
Perhaps I'll find the letters they'd never send.
What is this mess? This thin jacket,
No sorry, a "windbreaker," more new English racket,
It does nothing to stop the wind's deadly kiss,
Where is that denim I so desperately miss?
I can't feel my fingers, I forgot I had toes,
Slower and slower I trod through the snow,
What's this? Out of matches? I collapse on the ground,
The darkness, it's coming, I hear a calm sound.
In memory of Chanie Wenjack.
