Winter Blues

Last nights freezing rain
turned trees into sculptured beauties.
Glistening liquid diamonds hang on cables
like threaded pieces of art.
The snow covered ground virgin white-
Immaculate.
The world is now cloth
in its winters best.
Beauty and warmth mingled
like perfume on a womans wrist.

But see, the irony of this;
My heart doesnt feel nor care.
Beauty is wasted in its frigidity,
iced in its apathy,
squandered in its numbness.