I don't own Trigun. I just write poetry about it. The follwing takes place in/around eps. 23. If you have not seen it you probably will not understand it, but there are potential spoilers, so be warned.
Snow
I was up late (or early depending how you look at it) the night before I wrote this capturing Trigun clips on my computer, and the next morning I was walking to school through falling snow, and I began to wonder what the folks on Planet Gunsmoke would think of it. I am still not over Ep. 23, I think that is why when the words for this poem started coming, they happened to take place during that episode.
The two parts are taken from two specific scenes in that episode, the one with Wolfwood shirtless, standing by the window, and the one at the very end with Vash standing outside the house as Milly cries. I really struggled with the second half (Vash's part) and am still not sure I really got it the way I wanted> Perhaps I should have just posted the first part. Any c&c is very welcome at aerinn@hotmail.com
Snow
I. Even without a shirt on, it is warm He stands by the window and in the light of the moons the sand looks almost silver. If he had ever seen snow It might have reminded him of it just a little. As it is, he has only heard the legends. It was cold they said, and soft And white whiter than bones whiter than milk whiter than anything you'd ever seen. And it made everything clean they said. How would that be? He lets out a slow stream of smoke from his cigarette and folds his arms across his chest blocking out fairy tales. Looking at the woman in his bed though smiling in her sleep he thinks maybe he doesn't need snow. II. He stands outside even though the setting sun is blinding as it paints blood across the sky the color of his coat. He stands there trying not to see the trail of blood left in the street. He stands there because he can't face the crying. It reaches him even out here, a mourning wail He tries to think of anything else tries not to notice the blood and his mind casting around fixes on snow. It is strange. He had seen pictures of it Rem had shown him, told him about it how it was cold how it fell from the sky how when it fell on your face it felt like tiny kisses and when you danced in it, you disappeared. Rem had said that snow was quiet that heavy snow muffled everything it became a void of sound as it fell, covering everything earth, houses, blood.... Rem had said people could die in it too becoming so cold they went numb falling asleep in a big white blanket. He felt it then inside of himself first cold then numbness the snow falling slowly packing down inside of him perfect, silent, and cold. ~Rachel Fox~ 11/01---------------------
I was up late (or early depending how you look at it) the night before I wrote this capturing Trigun clips on my computer, and the next morning I was walking to school through falling snow, and I began to wonder what the folks on Planet Gunsmoke would think of it. I am still not over Ep. 23, I think that is why when the words for this poem started coming, they happened to take place during that episode.
The two parts are taken from two specific scenes in that episode, the one with Wolfwood shirtless, standing by the window, and the one at the very end with Vash standing outside the house as Milly cries. I really struggled with the second half (Vash's part) and am still not sure I really got it the way I wanted> Perhaps I should have just posted the first part. Any c&c is very welcome at aerinn@hotmail.com
