“The holidays are here and the weather changed, what are the odds?” Gun Roswell

The ever consuming darkness on the outside
Needs to be shedding, with some much needed light
All the small decorative candles flickering bright
On the window shill, I once painted white

As I watch the weather in constant turmoil
I venture back to the days with seasonal joy
The ground always covered with so much snow
When going outside was fun with only a toboggan in tow

Alas those days may have passed
And the changing seasons are of the past
But somehow the silent smog outside the window
It is still comforting enough, even with a little wind blow