Liquid breath appears sporadically
I concentrate on those man made vapours
Because everything else is just a black outline

The sky might be cloudy, but I am in the shelter of a single apple tree
I cannot see the heavens above, but imagine them instead, abetted by
occasional glimpses of
An airliner’s illuminations, or maybe even a star that shot too close.

My cold fingers are making themselves felt
Begging to be back in a warm room before
all sensation goes