'Tis the Season

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Snowflakes float lazily down from an ice-cold sky.
While sipping scalding cocoa, I watch them drift by.
The torrents of frosty flakes fall into a profusion of piles.
So tall they stand,
Seeming to go on for miles ad miles.
I rise, ready to make the excursion to the outdoors.
The charred fireplace has stained the floors
With its tears of ash and chaff.
I don't mind though, because it reminds me of the fire's crackling laugh.
Reaching the door I slip on my boots and my hat.
Stepping onto the "Welcome" mat,
I take a deep, chilly breath in.
The cold bites at my jowls, and numbs my chin.
Gingerly, the white specks waft from side to side.
Using the front walk as a slide,
I make my way to the largest pile,
While launching myself into it, I smile.
Really, for no reason,
I guess, you know what they say,
'Tis the Season.





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