First Snow 2009
The mountain repeats the sound of my hatchet back to me
The sun sinks and the air cools quickly
The rhythm of my little axe draws me in
The thinning veil draws me out
The sun sets behind the hills
The moon does not rise
The skies darken and it begins to snow
The Hallowed Tide is here
The forest beckons seductively
I know better
I go inside and build up the hearth fire
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