The sun plays hide-and-go-seek on a midwinter's afternoon,
Darting constantly towards the next available cloud.
Shielded.
Beside my intermittent shadow flutter my companions,
Guided by the ever-changing, blustery gusts.
The snowflakes follow me home.

Windy, wafting whispers winding through dormant branches,
I hold my breath and count to ten to ignore their murmurs.
Gossiping.
Hazy February clouds conceal indistinct peeps.
Should nobody else join me,
The snowflakes follow me home.

As I pass through the threshold and traipse across the floor,
Legs chilled and wavering over creaky wooden planks.
Weary.
But I glimpse once more, out through tempered glass panes,
Reassured and reveling in the knowledge,
*The snowflakes follow me home.