Winter whispers to me as I walk
The trees hang ridged frozen in time
unaware that life continues to pass them by
they do not change much in the wintertime.

My footsteps are familiar to the sidewalk
that is why I don't make much sound
when I walk to my coffee shop
Yes, my coffee shop.

My gloves are not slippery enough to
slip
when I turn the ****, open the door
the air inside is warm.