The country lane is covered with powdery snow,
Like a blanket it clasps the street and field;
The icy wind is uttering an auspicious sough.
Trudging towards my destination that niveous fir trees yield.

Amidst the eerie lonely hush, down in the frozen valley,
A glimmer of light reflecting on crystalline snowflakes;
The place appearing like a lighthouse down the alley.
I reach your house, next to the frozen solid lake,
It is the only bright glare in this devouring black night.

You are my stars in the universe, guiding me through the dark,
You are my anchor in the untamed tides, precluding me to roam;
And with a violent streak of intuition, like a sudden spark,
A feeling of bliss - I realize I finally arrived at home.

Sometimes I like to catch the mosquitos that hum about my room, sending radio signals to headquarters,
One handed, ****** them out of their whining arrogance,
Squish.
Sometimes when I open my hand again, to bask in my tactical victory, or find out it slipped between my fingers, it rises slowly out of the fist, and into the night, alive.
Pride. I caught it.
Frustration. It got away.
Awe. It survived.