Troy McCullough
iowa winter
Winter, you are so beautiful, with your soft blue light and snow in the inky black trees. You look like a daydream, like a fairytale. You’re so perfect that if you didn’t exist, I wouldn’t believe in you. Oh, winter, you are so many things, so many incredibly beautiful things. I could be out in them, feeling the crunch of snow underfoot, walking along in your pristine quiet, my face rosy in the cold, while I breathe in that air that’s so crisp, so clean, that each breath tingles just like a thrill. I could, and your beauty, winter, it’s like an invitation. So I hope you won’t mind too terribly much if, instead of accepting that invitation, I spend today thinking of you fondly, while I look out of my frosty windows and drink tea.
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