Silence sleeps in solitude,
Hibernating in beds of pines.
A gray plan has tattooed Northern skies with blinding whites.
Branches reach for reasons,
Toppled with the undiscerning powder
Weighing down inhibitions.
Roots trampled by blizzards, words, and words.
Idle wait creeps up on waists,
Blending with fibers of misery on slow snow days.
Pillows,
Sanctuaries,
House the need in sheets,
Protection like stagnant vegetation.
Regrets plunder in vierno…
But winter trees, so elegant and shy
Whisper reassuring prayers
Into optimistic window glass
That force-feeds the heart,
Drowning,
Suffocating in warmth.