COPING WITH WINTER

It's winter
The landscape gives it away
Trees and bushes stilled from movement
Due to the ice that's formed from the frigid
Temperature
Icicles, sharp as daggers hang from cars. Porches.
And their eyelashes
Even the bright sunshine doesn't melt the ice below
Their feet
Walking is like navigating a mine field
Riding by in the car their faces pressed against the
Window
They can see sleds with children aboard
Their faces chilled and rosy from the blustery
Winds
If they're lucky they can stop from their travels
To enter a quaint cafe
The smell of fresh brewed coffee fills their
Nostrils
How lovely these winter days with their exquisite
Scenery are until the last thaw
The winter's landscape is gone once more