Arms barren, the beds in your hold long forgotten since the white blanket fell over your home.
Head held high up in the clouds, you’re one of the first locations to be covered when the sky lets go.
Nestled in your blanket
you rest your tired body
with your feet buried in the earth
and your soul asleep,
waiting for the cold to pass.
I love the poem..it feels like I feel:). Did you write it?