Shoveling Snowy Sidewalks

In winter’s grasp, we find our solace deep,
Beneath the covers, chaos softly creeps.
We wrap ourselves in regal guise, so fine
Yet dreams, mere fragments, fickle and supine.

Winter’s chill, a jest the world does make,
As tears, like streams, in paper cups, we take.
We heed the photograph with cynical eye,
How human, to feel empty, void, and dry.

Wraith-like clouds, they ponder our despair,
Dreams wild, reckless, yet we dare to care.
As dusk descends, a kind word’s sweet refrain,
In storms of emotion, salvage we, our gain.