Icy winter day
Snow turns to slush in the sun
Drip, drip, I can hear the icicles melting
But still, a chilly wind
Sigh, my breath comes out as fog
Puffing like a smokestack before dissolving into air
I purse my lips and blow, trying to make smoke rings
But all I get are little white clouds that the wind carries away
And then they're gone
Life is a breath.