SNOW SEQUENCE
River words turn running slow.
To see, to say, to move on.
A winter’s day has little warmth.
—
A winter’s day has little warmth.
We huddle around our hearts,
Crunch bowed through snow.
—
Crunch bowed through snow
Finding footprints to keep to,
White hollows the slipping lanes.
—
White hollows the slipping lanes.
Lines of hedge float empty
Cold smudges reasons to move.
—
Cold smudges reasons to move.
Time falls in flakes ending all.
Weighted we bob, suddenly uncertain.
—
Suddenly uncertain,
This is not the world we own nor shape.
Even names for things have dissappeared.
—
Even names for things have disappeared.
The river mutters between teeth of ice.
Slick and black the waters smirk.
–
Slick and black the waters smirk.
Glass cold whispers sliding by.
River words turn running slow.
–
simonhlilly 
Where I am so far from the snow, and yet I now feel the cold and hear the crisp. Thank you. Kenza.
“We huddle around our hearts.” Memorable poetry, Simon.