The snow started falling heavily
in the mid-afternoon. I was certain
winter was on its way out,
but seasons often deceive me.

Wind currents pushed the flakes
into my eyes, and peppered my skin
at angles normally protected
by the clothes I was wearing.

While staring into the snow swirls
bustling in front of my window,
I realized that I feel more at peace
in my aloneness at times like this.

Warm sun and the engrossing snowfall
can capture me in a meditative trance,
but between seasons the glimmering
eyes twinkle in assiduous adjustments.

My identity is more certain
in the fixed weather.

Each night I feel more subtle similarities
between myself and the animals
dancing on the moonlit carapace
extending protectively over the ground.

I find it easier to sleep
in the heavy musk of my scent
mixed with thick wood smoke
and atmospheric residue.

As particles flitted from a diurnal slumber.