I find ice

One by one they drop off to sleep and the frigid hour freezes pathways, makes them smooth for gliding.

I stream my thoughts. I slip through.

September becomes December and green leaves freeze white. Choked. The season shifts rapidly like a bell curve of dramatic deviations, amazing and disheartening. White softens more starkly than gray.

When it becomes this cold, can you still feel the pulse?

I can.

I should still be falling with them but I'm falling on my own. Flakes fly like peaceful bullets and I can't look away. I am mesmerized. Penetrate me, shock me.

I sink into snow, I move, I find ice, I move.

This is how it should be.