December’s confused.

Trees like bulging veins,

blighting silver skies.

Clawing angrily for blankets

on unsalted grounds,

and toothless winds.

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Lace-less buildings

and unglazed streets!

Exposed knees,

and clip-less teeth!

Frost-less windows are causing distress!

The season’s in limbo,

and the trees undressed!

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The mist polishes us ’till we glisten.

Until the roads mirror like diorite –

Until the white creeps up the glass –

Until we shiver into lisps,

and our cheeks florid.

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– Rachel R. Vasquez, February 2016

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