A name from the North

My heart breaks

For every snowflake

That twirls down,

Solitary

Amongst a gray sky

It looks lonely, you see

Not as if I don’t know how that feels.

A tree is downed in the forest

It appears as a skeletal hand resting upon the snow covered floor

Brown beneath, like ivory rotting away as it ages 

And pure white on top, bone bleached by the sun.

I’ve started looking forward to the little things a little more 

Than I look forward to next year

Because it feels like next year is uncertain.

I’m excited to eat peanut butter toast in the car before skiing,