Description
In a world washed free of color,
where snow and sky bleed the same pale hush,
a man walks — flame-bright in orange —
a single ember moving through frost.
His dog bounds ahead,
black against the silence,
alive in a place where even time
seems to pause and listen.
The mountains rise,
ghostlike and endless,
their sharp edges softened
by the breath of cloud and storm.
Trees, stripped of green and grace,
stand etched in charcoal lines,
sentinels of stillness
in this monochrome cathedral.
All around — shades of silver, ash, and bone.
And yet,
that flicker of coat,
that tail wag,
are enough to warm the whole white world.
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