Ice Age

A white frosty morning With a highly humid atmosphere Fresh and clean breeze Cascades down the mountain Dews relax on surfaces Fog arrests the beauty Of the high and low lands Furs bow in uniqueness Stuffed cloak re-assigned My days are now short And temperature very low. I am losing myself When do I get to feel warmth ? Do daytime always come with heat ? I waited in anticipation With high stake expectations For my wish to come to pass And then the silent cold environment Whispered to me "Chill out, it's winter"