The cold can’t decide if it wants to stay
It came in a few days ago and turned the winter’s final rain into its first snow
The last of what little snow fell is still around
It hides in those lonesome corners where the sun doesn’t reach
It watches anxiously as puddles form in the light of day
But the days are short and the night returns
the orphaned snow sleeps safe and cold
I write stuff. Working on a novel. Working on a degree. Working on a life.