Long Winter Stretch

Behind a frozen glass window I peer, but not for long despite the pending thunder, to spur an inner gnawing gumption, I turn a chilly doorknob, with great stealth born of winters past, sleet-ridden gusts, swaying tree leafs, slippy patch awaits the reckless foot, a shivering deep down voice whispered, perils lurk for absent-minded strollers, caution now encrusted in each limb, weather warning, weather brave, the imp within me teetering in jest, will mine be an ice skater taunt? As I absorb dark canvasses around me, wondrous hint of moonlit snowflake, silver white midair droop miracle, blackbird silhouette on brittle twig, nearby sudden dart and dash, from orange-copper feline irises, their intermittent shrill meow, a stark punctuation mark, Did I hear the rustle of a drawn curtain? actioned by some enigmatic sleeper, fearful of the hair-raising sound, from passing traffic at such unearthly hours, Was I shaken by those flickering lights? in velvet shadow rooms engulfed by mystery, yet this somber mood seasonal pantheon, shall bemuse that haunted house, that much sought after haunted shelter, where a mind in nocturnal flight, might somehow wander unseen