Empty Fields in Winter

Crunch, crunch, crunch
My feet break through ice into the snow
The crystals born by wind sting my face
A single raven atop a rock takes flight as
The gusts push it with the snowstorm
There’s no sun, but the sky's alight
With whites and greys
The bare branches of trees clatter and
Whistle above my head
Tufts of snow drift from their clutches and
Crown my head
My face is a frozen grimace,
Frowning at the empty palette around me
A rabbit darts about nearby
Lost and trying to find his home
Under ice and out of this maelstrom
No sounds penetrate the blanket
Muted snowfall and whispering gales
Nothing matters here
Only where you can hide
Only how you escape.