Snowflakes fall,
icy crystals, blanketing
my yard like thousands
of little fairies laid
to rest.

The wind wraps around
the trees, and swoops through
the hills, only to batter
against the houses
standing in defiance to
the winter air.

Inside, our hands and hearts
are warm. Steam curls in
ribbons off mugs of hot tea and
cocoa. Our feet hover next
to dancing flames, as little
lights twinkle between
pine needles.

This, is my winter.