Charlotte Henson

Woke to the 
                cold
kiss of winter's ache and the
thud double dip and dance
of some kind of animal outside.
A fire burning somewhere. 

To you, the blind lady,
winter was just a series
of sensations –
the scratch of a naked branch,
the rain (only colder).

The utter embrace of silence.

This was for a contest on deviantART in which contestants were challenged to describe winter, without using visuals.