snow, again

An early walk with the dog. For once, no wind, all still, as if time had stopped. Thin crunch of white, burnt radiance of sodium light. The world was ours: the alley, with its cement and trash graved; the sidewalk, on which our prints were lunar; the cold air, with its absent traffic. All of this shared between me and her.

Though her sight is dimming now, and she does not walk well, and it was hard not to find in that silence something nearing.