Looked out the window
Fresh coat of white snow
From the air
And white is where
Each colour exists
An amalgamation
But if you stare
You'll see them there
Waiting for the bus
Isn't this like us
The weather, dear
Is better here
Then up on my porch
East coast, and up north
We can see
The water freeze
Whiskey and sweaters
Life's little pleasures
Saving me
From apathy
Then with the big one
Waiting for the sun
To disappear
Far from here