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 breezeβs 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 Winterβs 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.