there were no snow days this winter
only the cold
only the rain
the snow falls from my eyes
my insides thick with frost
at least it’s pretty as it lands at my feet

the windows have frosted over
shattering pinprick traffic lights
into stellar beams

teahouse tables pushed to the side
soft swing music floats overhead
we shed our coats and our inhibitions

clasped hands and an arm draped
softly on the small of my back
we stumble and laugh

snow falls in the night air
the room warms with music and joy
and we dance

slow deer walk on snow
brown on white
large and little

maybe it's the winter's tiptoeing snowfall,
the endless white on the monotone rooftops,
the silence of my room is louder than any hysterical scream,
i think i heard a breath leave my hollow chest
and elimenating my inner child's glowing sunbeam.

if i'd see a color pass my peripheral view,
just a tiny speck of a sunset's lilac hue,
i think my shattered heart would dance
and pretend to experience a solemn romance.

why does the winter always feel like
a suffocating grip around the throat of
those, dreaming and disappearing

of everyone's initial thoughts?

© fey (27/02/20)

the snow-covered mountains
glitter brighter
than stars

so when
i blink
i can still
see their beauty

Forming together
As if in a curt whisper,
The gnarled shadows
Poke and ****
At the glimmering snow.

The moonlight
Politely beckoning the wind
To provide these shadows delight.

They giggle in the nip and tickle
Of the seemingly stagnant breeze,
But they bore of its humor
As the wind’s imposing air
Dissipates with growing unconfidence.

The snow’s silky silver sheen
Is shaded by the gnarled green.
The moon’s reflectant piercing light
Prevades this stagnantly silent night.