A creative response to Deviation by Nicolette Polek
My days are a winter garden of thin lines, precise and sharp traces, needles, frozen spider webs, shadows of scattered things laid across nighttime snow. I watch on, like at the cinema, eating blueberries and liquorice in the dark. I make my way through the garden with my eyes straight ahead. Orderly motions made when crossing over to kiss the cold face of choice. The simple gain providence. Then what shall my heart gain?