covers the verdant grass
as a robin flickers away
from the semi-barren birch.
People scrape ice from cars
irritable and taken by surprise
but I peer at this world with wondrous eyes
my breath rolling like ectoplasm
with drowsy three-quarter moon
now fading in an azure sky
as the rising sun creates jewels
on fallen golden leaves.
In this wintry weather I cannot but thrive
and my, does it feel good to be alive.