The earth turns cold
and the sun goes down.

Soft blankets of snow dust the rooftops,
the snowmen dance.

My mittens thaw
by the fireplace,
as they drowse
in the toasty light.

Vacant mugs
with hot chocolate-stained rims
rest patiently.

I feel the contentment
as it settles over everything,
like the crisp frost that shimmers off the grass,
and nothing can disturb
the quiet peace that I know is only momentary,
because the pattern of tomorrow is confusion.

The things left unsaid are now paralyzed in time,
and for now
all I can do is forget the things I wish I could get back,
relive.

I snuggle beneath the stars.
The man on the moon gently rocks
back and forth
until the whole world is swaying
in motion with the moon.