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.
Icy dry air hovers over leaves, trees, soil. Frost shimmers. Windy, cold. Not a drop of water.
Frost sparkles brightly frozen to the green moss of stones smooth and cold.
Bright red and dark green – buds and leaves coated with frost. Sweet winter morning.
The sun will soon melt all white veils of morning frost, leaving behind small tear drops.
Early morning. Park. In winter. Frost on the grass: Emeralds in webs.