breath

the other day it was so cold. I climbed into my car and started singing and my breath rolled out in swirling clouds. I stopped. there is an extent to which a person is contained in their voice, in the words which fall off their lips, but its all so intangible. its just noise. but words for me are such a part of who I am, my voice, gosh, the only other time I get to see it is when its on paper. but those are just black shapes on white space, two dimensional, noiseless, almost formless. and here my voice was taking shape; part of me suspended in the moveless, icy air. and more than words it was song, words with life. I almost didn't turn the heat on the whole way there.