As I walk down the damp street,
I take four moments to reflect,
I try to see the fog of my breath until it dies in the night air.

The bright Moon slants across the wet roof tiles,
The cold makes my fingers tingle,
My bare feet are pink,
But not red.

My nicotine fix is calming my foot fall,
I try to appreciate the coldness as it begins to snow,
I pull my coat tighter around my neck.
As it turns out I like Winter after all.