Snow Underfoot

Lyrics

[Intro]
(compacted snow underfoot, three steps, then quiet)
Your feet are still out there.

[Verse 1]
The rest of you came in hours ago — the boots are by the door,
the socks are on the radiator, the wine glass is washed —
and your feet are still on the mountain, still on the hard-packed white,
still feeling the give and the squeak and the grip and the going.
It's a very specific feeling. Snow has a texture, it turns out.
And you have brought the whole of it to bed with you.

[Chorus]
Snow underfoot. In a warm room. Under a duvet.
The floor of the bedroom has become a slope somewhere,
and your ankles are making small corrections that are not required,
and you are grinning about it in the dark like an idiot.
Snow underfoot. It's the day, refusing to be over.
Let it. It was a good day. Let it run.

[Verse 2]
And this is the pleasant end of the whole phenomenon —
because the mind gives back the day whether you liked it or not,
and mostly what it gives is spreadsheets and traffic and stairs,
the dull repeated things, the ones you'd never choose.
But now and then you spend a day doing something worth repeating,
and it repeats, for free, all night, and you get it twice.

[Chorus]

[Bridge]
So here's a thought I'd offer, and it's nearly practical:
whatever you do for hours today is what you'll get tonight.
The screen will give you rows. The road will give you road.
And a mountain, or a sea, or a rope, or a good long walk
will give you back its texture in the dark for free.
Choose your repetitions. They come back.

[Chorus]

[Outro]
(one more step in snow, then nothing)
Still white.
Still white behind the eyes.