Blank nights, fog clouding the estate, sharp corners and black ice cause cars to spin from roads, making people late for who knows what? It blots out even stars, but from the fog a headlight glares, too bright, it shines on houses. Then pedestrians fall on compacted snow - all does not look right. Tonight we can be gloomy, that is all. From in the fog a headlight glares at me I hide my eyes but still feel its despair. Below is solid ice, while even trees seem strange, downcast - like they should not be there The transformation scares me, but I walk on To contemplate the rising of the sun.