do not remind yourself of how you suffer,
only the rigid tree branches see,
when you see them covered in icy white,
nearly clear as a cloudless day,
the steam from a mug contrasting with a fog,
outside covering the far hidden mountains,
while the stew thickens the flakes keep falling,
nearly covering the deck and three chairs,
roaming gusts of the storm bring in shivers and
optional choices are electric blanket or hot bath,
murky air swirling and filled with wispy chill,
afforded the chance to settle in and not go out,
no television, music, or illumination required,
confirm the story you wish to live,
exist in a natural dimension of your own
jaybeasley2 