numb cheeks and crimson lips, could almost feel the first snow while snugging in a cold blanket
first frost – crisp, crisp, crisp the moon glides through the sky trying not to slip
pale rose on the wall blooming through the bricks, through the rain, through the frost, through the grey
Touched fresh morning frost. Shivered, felt it melt and sighed. Some sprinkled on the ground.
White dust all the way – soft, shimmering and melting- crunches when touched.