The winter winds carefully arrives with dreary wings, it's negative and pushing through the soft sunlight with relative ease.

My warmth is kept at a minimum at all times, for comfort, and my bones ache. They creak in the winter part of the revolution around the sun.

It will be a a eternity and a expired hour to when the warmth will take its turn. Then I will dip my toes in the cold, dark waters of a fresh water hole in a salt water ocean.

The earth will continue through the heavens as our dependency grows with each death of a star. They stick around for a millennia then alter shape to bring the balance full scale.

My life is not measured in the brightness of my comet tail, my life is measured by the depth of the cold, dark heavens. To see the colors of the tail, you must be in the vacancy of the heavens.