Hour 2 : Cold Front

An easy silence, thick and quiet

No words and stories told

Walking through the forest

Cold and shivers creeping in

The smoky powder filling the sky

The trees bare, combed away by the wind

Chill rushing through without a light

A lonely place to walk alone

The bitter cold numbing the skin

The only kind of bare you can see

World draining in snow

Hearing only the statics

The frozen heart bumping

Working on its own sabotage

A beautiful disaster

Covered in an avalanche of emotions

Between the woods and frozen lake.

(Last line taken from the poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost)






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