I crave the quiet of a cabin
where I lean my ear closer
to hear the drop of a snowflake
and hear nothing 
where the blank slate of last night’s snow
greets me as I upright
stepping out 
my breath climbs from my lips 
then goes 
as it conforms with winter air
that lines my face 
taut and rosed 
I do miss the birds
who have the sense 
to find a southern home
maybe I’ll visit
without hesitation if invited 
but for now I’ll stay
til i hear a snowflake fall
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Sawtooth Wilderness, ID