A Winter Fantasy
For Hunter Snow collects in the corners and swirls past the frosty windows of my cabin in the cold, dark winters’ eve. I stoke up the fire and put away the dried dishes from my evenings’ meal then stare out into the darkness, wishing for a companion with which to share my warm shelter and desirous mood. Realizing that the chance of such is largely without much hope, I retire to my comfy sheepskin-covered pallet and, from a most secret cache, I retrieve a sheaf of dog-eared letters. Well worn...