Behind the stillness of space
the wind hides its self.
Yet, in the void timed space
we can feel the chill she left exposed.
The moon stands peeking
through the shades of clouds;
indiscreetly opening and closing
the sky’s celestial blades.
The loneliness of silence
hangs in space.
Winter has chosen
her bedfellow. All is well.
The night gradually blankets footprints
the journeying sunset left behind.