I felt you on my bare arms and face-

a warm, balmy wind that lulls everyone it meets.

Drifting through willow trees,

playfully tousling my hair-

Oh, to float away like you do!

Yet, I am thankful for your ghost now residing in the air,

with his cold, metallic aroma burning my nostrils.

In the presence of the icy current, a feeling stirs within;

Your breath whispers ancient December tales.

Frigid and chemical, yet strangely sentimental.