the cold has set in
marching our hands to our mouths
our breath escaping
into the Christmas-lit night
as if carried by ghosts.

i listen to my favorite song
by Jakob Dylan,
summer on my mind.
if it refuses to snow
then i refuse to accept
that winter is only days away.

the cold has set in
creeping into my skin
reminding me
of the darkness behind the light
the hollow hiding behind this night.