the Stillness of a Winter Night

Cold and bright night,
moon shines high,
trees shimmer with frost,
whispering secrets in the winter sky.
Each breath a cloud,
every shadow a ghost,
the world wrapped in silence,
a beauty, a host,
like a scene on a postcard.
Smoke rises gently from the chimney,
stars blink down in their velvet attire,
as whispers of dreams float higher and higher.
February’s breath, crisp and clear.

That is what it was like when we came home Sunday evening.