All systems go
Buzzing, fuzzy
My legs are walking
My mouth is talking
But I am on autopilot
Numbed and knocked out
By something bigger
Than what we had
Maybe I’ll go
Dazed and drowning
My eyes are burning
My heart is yearning
But I am on autopilot
Snowed and sloughed off
By something bigger
Than what I thought we had
mishunderstood 
Sweet boots. 🙂
At times,
when
the garlands
have gone
where
tundras stand
bland,
we must stop,
then drop
with
latent
delight,
and
swelled
where felled,
make our
bed with
snow angels…
Expect to see it in your next pic, dear…
😉 Eric
Thank you for this lovely response. At the moment I am in warmer climate,but when I get home to the snow, I may have to consider the snow angel, which I’m sure will lead to an interesting post. Thanks for inspiring me. 🙂