And we draw pictures on the dripping pane.
You thread the baubles with your steady hands,
As I pad across the prickly carpet,
Balancing mugs of steaming hot chocolate.
We warm icy hands on the crackling fire,
Cutting and sticking in the candlelight.
We work in silence, not needing to speak.
Frozen fingers snip at paper snowmen,
Holding hands and smiling, as we do now
And so nearly didn’t.
Glitter coats my lashes and the world sparkles.