I want to wash my hands, my face and hair with snow.

Snow Snow Snow.
Too fluffy for forts or men,
so tea and books for the afternoon.
Tomorrow will stick
and Terabithia will be built.
So cold.
I dress as if I am outdoors
even though the fire roars.
Horse kisses are sweet and foggy,
and brother's puppy's snuggles are warmest around.
Today, I'm scribbling wildly,
with reckless abandon.
(wreck this journal)
And dreaming about what's next,
an adventure,
a story,
and a new puppy to share it with
(hopefully)
Life has been ever so lonely,
since losing my Melody.

I'm remembering her today.
She loved the snow.

I love winter. I love snow.
You know I'll always love you.