Philip Bonmassar // WINTER IN ONTARIO

As he stood there, horrified

His mouth wide open and his heart rate decelerating

He saw the rough, ragged icicles curled by the window

Their sharp, threatening edges caused him discomfort

He was overwhelmed by the white, dense snow

He felt stranded in a frozen desert

The howling of the chilling wind, breaking his course of thought

Goosebumps were creeping up his arm

The naked, leafless tree saddened him

Its twisted trunks and branches were exposed

Meanwhile, the blizzard flurries banged against his window with rage

His teeth chattered like door chimes

But the sturdy, cozy fireplace calmed him

As he slithered slowly back into his chair

He noticed the lake was sealed tight with smooth ice

“I better not dare,” he said