Heart of winter is ironic
as nothing moves in this cold
there is no hot blood though veins
keeping extremities alive.
As I stand frozen on the patio
even my breath escapes slightly
before the immortalized
words hang in the air.
There is a shift in what you see when
the clearest blue sky collides
with white coated earth, what should
be a defined boundary, with definitions
and delineations, wavers and moves.
