Behind the stillness of space
the wind hides its self;
yet in the void and timed space,
we can feel the chill she left behind.
The crescent 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 and the night gradually blankets
footprints the journeying sunset left behind.