(Haven’t been on here in a while... just getting back into it! Be nice🤍)

We’re sitting in the treehouse watching embers from the fire glow in the darkness. It’s warmth teasing me as it travels through my socks. I watch ash disguised snow circle the air then fall by my feet. The fire glitters but the night is cold.

Your words escape in puffs of clouds and I watch them blend into the mist. The night grows heavy and as the moonlight beams, the surroundings become more familiar.

It’s bittersweet knowing this will be the last winter in the treetops above the moss green swamp.