Chill

Clouds of mist form with every breath I take,
Swirling lazily in the air.
Sparkling icicles hang precariously from the eaves,
begging for a small, mittened hand to reach out and pluck them.
The world has been frosted in diamonds, powdery pinpoints of light.
The trees have shed there verdant leaves for dresses of luminescent white.
Snowflakes fall down from the heavens, pure and unsoiled by man.