A cold broken blanket drifts down from the sky, on a still growing night in the mountains up high.
As it settles on into the ground found below,
It assembles itself as a broad quilt that glows.
An owl echoes "who" through the valley just west,
As the deer take to shelter much alike do the rest.
Warm in the cabin I gaze out the window,
And I watch all the critters running through going home.
As the fire at my feet slow but surely grows dim,
My mind drifts away flowing free as the wind.
I close my eyes gently surely I know,
That the world will sleep cozy under thick layered snow.
