The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying
with it
Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the
roof
Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of
darkness
While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized
cups
Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s
radiance
Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey
color
Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edge of
the sky
The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the
murkiness above
Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely
across the heavens
Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks
come alive
The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the
moonlight
Turning from the front window the flickering candle flames
replace the stars
Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while whips
of smoke dance into the air
Warming the darkening room for a short time…
