winter whispers

the trees bristle
under
a mantle of crispy fur-like frost
that came
over
the last day and
under
the cover of this night,

frazzled
- or even electrified in posture
the leafless twigs reach
up and into
the changeling sky

like elongated miniature cats' tails
that've been stroked
backwards
or as if inhabited by queuing
Albino spitfire caterpillars

my morning is spent looking
upwards

at the stark contrast of
moody trunks,
over haughty, ice-crowned branches
against the residual
night
fighting the glow of
dawn

the chill day break surprises
each rhythmic breath i take;
minty-fresh
vibrant
spicy

i blink away tiny shard-like flakes,
still the tears stream
and grow instantly cool on my cheeks

my feet, snug in their Mizuno cocoons,
slip now and then.
the white cold eventually bites my toes
and sticks to the cuffs of my
trackie dax

hooray, i whisper to no one in particular

winter is come