A minute snag grows, laughing mouth mocking my mending.
Path of polyester wisps clinging to brambles
Finding a troupe of children trying to sneak in the woods, a louder sound I have never heard.
Midwinter, just, with four pairs ruined
Dead ducks, landfill.
Snow pants are made for prancing in fairy tale snow
Not for bum sliding, tree climbing, fire lighting.
I have had it with these crappy snow pants.
We are off to tougher pastures
Waxed canvas to fall out of trees in.
~seriously! these snow pants. working on waxed experiments for february’s wilds.