Poland In December

Frozen chaos painted the widows pristine sky blue seen through ice icicle patterns spirals and swirls We opened the door and stepped outside “Jesus it’s cold” your breath the only cloud Upon the fields of snow no footprint touched the freezing glitter on its surface Sunrise pink, day-glow iridescent the forest of silver-birch trunks caught on fire with soft rose light White, white, crisp cold white under the pristine sky and a forest of pink trees flaming in the sunrise You held your closed fingers to your mouth breathing on them hoping to warm them and I could see in your eyes how you scintillated and smiled We stood there as the chill seeped into ankles snow deep boots and the perfect stillness of it all “Coffee” you said, “I need hot coffee” We opened the door and stepped inside Frozen chaos painted the widows pristine sky blue seen through ice and the bed sheets still warm from the night