how different would it be to live somewhere without the snow. to live in texas where only desert marks the seasons but the desert is dead and never changes. and when there is growth it has horns and spikes and clings to life under rocks, between rattlesnakes and toddler beauty pageants but i'm sure the barbecue's are wonderful. or perhaps vietnam, remember? when the french built those delicate old houses that belonged sur les rues due paris but were hidden in the jungle far away and solitary; and you were so fascinated when you saw it in that movie once. well they were still wishing for empires which thawed and melted away so snow probably didn't matter. or maybe out at sea, where the winter still comes but the snow falls and hits the waves and, like so many other things, will leave no trace in the ebb and flow. the flakes would only stay on the deck and the ice would build up on the ropes and rigging and it would be gorgeous but scary and as the water reached my ankles and the ice became too heavy we would slide beneath the waves. well i would still watch the snow fall and wish for the coast and the prairies and the pines and you in that bed of mine.
