A familiar frost coats each unexpecting face,
a northern gift the southern sun disdains;
losing myself in a frigid embrace
as tires spin wild across forgotten lanes.
A mug of cocoa steams against the cold,
held tight by mittens pulled from cedar drawers,
paired with the bloom of jackets in colors bold,
while laughter rings off crisp icy floors.
In Audubon, the park transforms complete:
small figurines slip and glide on crystal ways
their stumbles sing with rhythm bittersweet,
a fleeting song that marks precious days.
For in this snow, our joy refuses flight
in my second home made brighter by the white.