Branches bend under the blanket’s weight.
The world slowly turns to black and white
With sharp contrasts outlined bold and straight.
Nature insulated in the grey daylight.
The world looks unnatural but pure and clean.
What feels dry is wet and burning bright.
The path I followed is no longer seen.
The world is strangely silent to me.
Just the hollow sound of a cool wind stream.
Small flecks of white slowly falling free.
The world grows cold in the vanishing light.
I face the solitude I came to see.
As the snow in the trees illuminates the night.