When Beauty Calls
It is not the snow. It is the cold.
Rabid and harsh.
Your breath freezing on your beard as you breathe,
A wiser man might not be standing here,
outside with a camera, just to capture the stillness,
but wisdom is not always your forte
when beauty calls.
About this poem.
My wife calls me practical. Mostly I am. But when faced with beauty, in nature or people.
Kind of a love poem, but you have to look close.
PS – the picture was taken on the way to my favorite diner. Tomorrow the high is to be 2 degrees.