I walked in digital snow today, journeyed, without moving.
No crunch underfoot, no chilled breath hanging in quiet air as eyes
flinched with the whiteness of it all.
I simply sat,
If truth be told I'm sat there right now.
Roy Ayer's Brother Louie blasting.
Dappled sunlight playing over windows caked in dust.
Watching ebony marks tortuously appear in that little grey box
sat in that field of white.
Each key depression a clue that I still exist,
each pixellation a compass to my inner id.
Yet, I had not one clue about what it was
that I was going to write about today.
So, I walked, one plodding footstep after another,
ever onward, through digital snow.