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The Immortal Winter

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The immortal winter
Greets me with a soft whisper
Of freedom and grace in its walls.
And I embrace it every time.

The swirling, gentle wisps
Of crisp frozen air
Tinge my cheeks red
As my body glides away.

The soft rips of a perfect curve
Echo throughout the winter wall,
But the harsh crashed to the ground
Remind me nothing is always perfect.

And when it is my turn
To feel the sting on my palms
And the throbs on my knees,
I brush myself off, knowing
The immortal winter will help me succeed.






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