There is a piercing quality to
it; bringing both
clarity and
threat.

Mislabeled as blankets, pillows, and soft
hills of white, freezing is always
an afterthought; too late once the
digits have gone
black and
blue.

The possibility of frostbite in
the silent-scape of twilit sundry.
Snow rises to
contradict its cliches.
Floating flakes are
pushed along a current, as the
breath of the God(ess) exhales.

Nostalgia covers the truth of
Winter’s harsh Nature as
songs and poems
romanticize what was once
humanity’s greatest nightmare:
the cold and the
lonely dark.

by Erik Shinker