A tree trunk in shadow stands dark, forbidding, ominous,
blocking me
from the cold glare of the sunlit snow beyond.

character-building times…
cold that retreats for a day
only to come back and linger.
no snow, no rain,
just a dust of flurries riding a mocking wind.
dry cold
my skin cracks
my fingers click against each other
like frozen twigs,
black against a
drained, colorlessness sky.