I lie sprawled on the dead crusty grass of Winter,
breathing in the frigid night.
A passing car ambles by,
headed for destinations unknown,
a mystery on wheels at this hour,
its eyes ripping the velvety shroud of darkness.
I lie in the darkness
beyond the periphery of its piercing gaze,
until it rumbles by and on until it is gone,
and darkness settles once more.
The wicked wind whispers
soft lilting nightmare lullabies
that float through the frozen forest branches
into my numb ears.
I lie in the darkness,
entranced by the bitter breeze’s melodies,
until it blows by and on until it is gone,
and hushed stillness falls again.
My body shakes
with deep rustling tremors,
to defy Winter’s icy kiss or maybe just
to break the mesmeric silence of the night.
I lie in the darkness
as the cold steals the breath from me while I tremble,
until it gusts by and on until it is gone,
and a modicum of warmth returns to my bones
and I am still.
I stare up and away into the night
until my eyes water and freeze and blur
as I stare at one star and the rest disappear
into the folded shadows of the sky.
I lie in the darkness,
a creature of the frigid Winter night,
enfolded in its quiet embrace,
oddly soothed by its anesthetizing touch,
lost in its starry splendor.