Why my mind drifts this day to this place and time I'm not sure, maybe it's the cold outside, maybe it's for stories lost, for once I did write a first version of Tundra, the one time that I stood on the precipice of a environment so daunting that you knew you could not survive were you to go any further, the limit, for me, of what I what I was willing to accomplish, for to go further would mean death.

That first version was posted here years ago, I have not found it in any archives I have, and it was lost in the great purge.I only remember that it was prose I was proud of, and somehow encompassed a meaning forgotten, but whose essence stayed and is remembered.

Thus I try again;

Eyelash tips freezing creating a kaleidoscope of color,
Translucent ornaments in my sight as I see only white
Glistening with light of a thousand colors as the diamonds
In the snow speak to my eyes
Silence.
Beyond any I have known
Pure, snow white silence

Breath is a sharp stab
Nostrils dripping, beard crusted with ice
Overwhelming beauty flows through my soul
A moment transfixed in time,
Now told

What did the snow say to the moon?
You make me glow!