An icy-covered lake skated on,

Snow is falling down, there is not

A sound.

A winter wind, blowing against

The skin,

A river of water that does not end.

Rain in the night, cold coming down,

Hail from the sky, hitting the ground.

A snowman dressed, standing alone,

Icicles hanging from rooftops, things

Of the cold.

A room without heat, fog, and sleet,

Things of the cold, Winter weather

With no shoes on your feet.

Keith Garrett