Post Consitent Content

So much to say as I sit and stay and type and think. I adore the snow, I relish the cold, I cool the relish, and I snow the doorway.

Snow covers the roof, the grass, the driveway when I do not shovel. A cold white blanket tucked in keeps me from being to warm. I drift off to sleep. Asleep I dream of a warmth that never comes. The chill comforts me, distracts me, reminds me not of what I miss. The cool brisk wind seems a sun kiss on my cheek. Will it tan me? The world is my beach; white sand is my playground. Clouds are my sun.