Tall spires mingle amidst the trees,
Playing cards upon long shadows,
Biding time for amber wisps to freeze into a blue,
To decorate their heads with snow.

I am bitten by the cold today,
In pieces by the frosted fields,
Yet I'm carried on great shards of ice,
That bend halfway, and thud the ground,
I hide my chin, my hands within
A plastic sheet with zips and pleats.