The muted din of winter marks
The death of the vibrance of summer.
For those of us who enjoy the comfort and isolation of the desolate quiet:
the absence of loud colors and obtrusive "noise," in the broadest sense of the word;
Winter is the padded rabbit hutch of our warm hibernation.
Winter is the tranquil comfort of a thick blanket;
a fire that speaks an insular bubble
amidst the cold and frost and a good book or show.
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