The cold air
Hits me instantly, spontaneously,
As I step out the door.
My breath
Puffs on the cold air in little white clouds,
Forming a quick wisp of silky fog.
Snow
Soft, white, like winter’s blanket,
Spirals from the sky, landing on
The creases of my shirt,
Landing on my eyelashes,
Creating a cold white barrier between my eyes
And the world ahead. Ice
It covers the water on the street
In a cold, hard shell of whiteness
Causing my boots
To slip and slide over it.
The bleak, black skeletons of trees
Sway solemnly in the harsh, snowy wind.
Cold.
Bexley, Ohio
