Winter
It’s cold. My hands, frozen and numb. My head leaning against the frigid glass. I sit beside a windowsill, as large as I am. My every breath blankets the surface with white fog. The window outside is stained with patches of water and frost. I gaze beyond the glass to witness a world of white. The earth is covered in a blanket of ice. The trees, lifeless and gray, scatter about the frozen tundra reaching towards the skies. The skies are calm, shedding soft tears of snow. Each descending upon the silent world with patience and grace. Heaven’s flowers drift down in unison upon this space without discrimination.
