Snow flakes drift by,
washing the world white.
Cold drips down my neck,
breath billows in small clouds,
Trudge through the flakes
filling the sky,
painting a picture of
a world wiped clean.
Makes the cold sound enchanting, lovely use of words.
Imagining such a whiteness to the landscape from winter’s first big snow!
“breath billows in small clouds,
Gorgeous imagery. Lovely poem.
Thank you, and thanks for stopping by and taking time to comment!