Why do I walk
In the snow at night,
With the air so bitter?
Why offer it my face to bite?

Because it’s quiet.

The sky is mute plum
And the trees dream,
Their branches laden
With winter’s gleam.

It is quiet.

I grew up loud.
I grew up scared.
I grew up knowing nothing
Of quiet.
Except in the snow at night.

I seek it out now
In an attempt to quell
The chaos that still seeks to rule inside.
I have found peace. I have found calm.
But when that is disturbed,
I go for a walk in the snow at night.

I seek the quiet out here
Which I can never truly find
In my mind.

I breathe in frost.
I soak up flakes.
I hear no sound.
My soul shakes.

I can only hope it’s shaking off the pain,
Shaking off the anger.
Those feelings are too cacophonous
For me now.

Too loudly was I borne and bred,
But I belong in snow at night instead.

In the quiet.