In which solitude is a treasure.

[badasspeanut]

It's snowing again.
A cool February chill runs up my spine
and sneaks back down to tease my toes.
I shiver throughout.
The flakes flutter
among forgotten Christmas lights
climbing through naked trees.
They shiver too.

The lights from windows above
flicker and fade
as faraway voices traverse icy winds.

The heart flies a little on these nights.