Snow bites the face like prickly pellets of pain

Whirling wind throws its insults at you like cold icy water

Your skin feels the nip and nibble of Jack Frost’s breath

Tears, against your will, seep from the corners of your eyes

You tug at your scarf to cover exposed cheeks

Each step you can feel the deep snow enter your boots and pierce your woolly   socks

The trees sway above and sprinkle more snow on an already covered ground

Grabbing the firewood and heaping it high in your arms- heavy

All you can think about is what the warmth of the fire is going to feel like

Leaning into the heat and taking it in

The sub-zero temperatures are not meant for our kind

Beautiful to look at from behind glass and in front of a crackling fire

Under a blanket and book in hand

Stew on the stove and tea in the kettle

Sweet dreams will hopefully arrive when I hit my pillow