Three inches or more,
my feet sinks into earth.
The bleak street I trek,
only closed doors follow.
From the ever grey skies,
only merciless snow falls.
Extending my open palms,
even nature hates to be near me.
Every race has their own company,
not so for a solo wanderer in winter.
Maybe I was born to be alone,
solitary even in the coldest storms.