Just Found This! Almost had forgotten it existed...
Dylan’s January Fort On Peter’s Hill, a few hundred homes nestled, slender skyward reaching, blanketed in oppressive white. Silence save imagined crackling from wood stoves. Behind 30 Ashfield in the small patch of land stands our creation now encrusted in sharp stone shoals, burning ice. Its wonder still steadily glows. A week earlier exhausted from life and shoveling, surprised myself starting the pile. I smelled salty sand, remembering sitting with cousins as we dug seeking China. Breaking the silence scattered snow offers came hurried, excited footsteps, descending sol- fege. Out the door a burst of orange, your mouth dropped, eyes widened, countless possibilities. “A tunnel Dada!” Complying I pushed aside cautious tendencies and the mountain’s center ’til we both could burrow through. You shuffled back and for