Hunters snow

Hunters in the Snow

My hair made antlers.

*

The sky: coloured lead.

*

‘I’m not enough?’

*

Green was everywhere.

            Green laughed

*

I pointed, ‘That’s new.’ Had I expected skaters still cutting circuits into the ice?

                                                                                                                                                ‘I thought it’d be more green, like in the painting.’

*

Green said.

We had a good view of Ikea on Amrasa-See-Strasse where the lake used to be.

*

 ‘Things change,’

*

Trees weren’t lined in a perfect diagonal to lead us into the scene; painted white, the church steeple was now difficult to pick out from the snow, and the river was in the wrong place though still rippled like a vein hanging from the teeth of the Alps like a shred of Actaeon.  

*

We had walked a short distance from the Hotel Bierwirt where my husband was sleeping off the previous evening’s overindulgence.

*

We stopped to look across Amras as if we were hunters come home empty handed. Behind us Ambras Castle, its windows cross stitched eyes, birds’ footprints.  

We had walked a short distance from the Hotel Bierwirt where my husband was sleeping off the previous evening’s overindulgence.

Trees weren’t lined in a perfect diagonal to lead us into the scene; painted white, the church steeple was now difficult to pick out from the snow, and the river was in the wrong place though still rippled like a vein hanging from the teeth of the Alps like a shred of Actaeon.  

‘Things change,’ Green said.

We had a good view of Ikea on Amrasa-See-Strasse where the lake used to be.

I pointed, ‘That’s new.’ Had I expected skaters still cutting circuits into the ice? ‘I thought it’d be more green, like in the painting.’ Green was everywhere.

            Green laughed, ‘I’m not enough?’

The sky: coloured lead. My hair made antlers.