The white dog stops... we breathe in for a minute and take in the universal breath. It is dark out here... it's black and darkly cold, out here. The wind cuts the image from my eyes, and I watch it fall frozen and split like glass into the snow. This deep and unwritten thing -- waiting on edge, for a free life to write it, too large to see it all deep back in there beyond my visions reach. The starry dingle...I begin, and now I see it, I raise my head to take in all this...