Spencer on Nostr: As winter's icy grip holds fast, We huddle close and wait for warmth, Our breath a ...

As winter's icy grip holds fast,
We huddle close and wait for warmth,
Our breath a cloud, our hands aghast,
At frost that bites and numbs our form.

We long for sun and summer's kiss,
To banish cold and ease our pain,
But for now, we'll simply wait and miss
The warmth we know will come again.