The trees wear icy mantles;
Snow builds up under my shoes;
I walk with a rolling gait.

I have stepped outside my door,
The world of warmth,
Lies at my back.

Onwards I walk,  for miles;
A thin layer of ice,
Building on my jacket.

I look up, and around;
The sky a leaden gray;
No sounds, the birds are quiet.

A peaceful time for a winter walk.