The month of January holds the peak of the winter season, filled with bare trees stripped of their foliage. The desolate atmosphere, accentuated by the toxic, overwhelming smog, brings a chill down peoples' spines as they gather all their winter clothes for the coldest month of the year.
However, by the second week, a rare blue sky appears, clear of any sign of pollution, brushed onto the grey tinged canvas left behind from the day before.
This day brings hope that the tedious, drawn-out month will be over soon and sheds to light a sort of profound beauty amongst the darkness.
The end of the third week sees snow gently falling onto the cigarette-littered streets, like a blanket hiding the filth of human activity.
The fortuitous snowfall smears smiles on peoples' faces, young and old, and is seemingly Mother Nature's futile attempt to veil the harsh, acrid scent of nicotine in the air.
YOU ARE READING
Heart of Chambers
PoetryCW: Mental Illness. a diary of inner thoughts, struggles, daydreams and nightmares morphed into words and strung into various short pieces.
