WINTER CHILL
Winter, cold, crisp,
And crunchy underfoot,
Snow fall, ice and frost,
Around me by the glut.
Icy cold eyes,
Face, fingers, and hair.
Steaming breath, ruddy cheeks,
With the mornings fresh air
Scenery looking splendid,
All coated in white.
Raised by three inches,
In the darkness of night.
To be the first imprint,
On a undisturbed drive,
To feel the icy chill in my throat,
And know I’m still alive.
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