• The sun begins to set
    over the snow-crusted peaks.
    The stinging whips of frozen air
    are cutting through my cheeks.

    Streets deserted, houses shut.
    I can't help but feel alone
    on this frozen winter street,
    freezing to the bone.

    The snow crunches beneath my boots,
    and freezes to my hair.
    I'm walking here, with no direction
    And a pocket of despair.

    Where has the sunshine gone?
    He was here just a minute ago...
    The sun has gone into hibernation,
    which has awaken all the snow.

    The thaw will occur in due-time.
    For now I must be wise.
    I'll avoid the sting, the chill, the freeze.
    And listen for the cries

    Of the spring.