cold quiet air touches my breath
Exposing it so everyone can see I'm alive
My hands are buried in wool caskets
I watch snow flakes fall in lamp post light
They signal as if the light caught them off guard
reminiscent of the fire flies in august groves
Where we would sit, looking for stars through willows
The frozen flakes add to drifts
As my feet slowly drag two parallel lines
Layered in cloth like a tucked in bed
Insulated in feather and fluff
These long walks on wintered roads
Do not adjust my core temperature
January has never felt warmer
Memories of you melt the snow I tred
 
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