Wandering into a world of white and grey
We are wary of the cottony quiet
Absent of angst
Devoid of definition
Divided by divinity
Still

Tracing trails of snowflakes
Tossed tenderly by the wind
Delicately descending
Fixing on the flight
Focused on the falling
Down

Hearths heat up the houses
Homey in the fading light
My neck tingles with delight
Facing a February night
Forgetting our current plight
For now.




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