The cold airHits me instantly, spontaneously,As I step out the door.My breathPuffs on the cold air in little white clouds,Forming a quick wisp of silky fog.SnowSoft, white, like winter’s blanket,Spirals from the sky, landing onThe creases of my shirt,Landing on my eyelashes,Creating a cold white barrier between my eyesAnd the world ahead. IceIt covers the water on the streetIn a cold, hard shell of whitenessCausing my bootsTo slip and slide over it.The bleak, black skeletons of treesSway solemnly in the harsh, snowy wind.Cold.