Warm Tones

It's February and it's cold. The winter doesn't stop after New Year's here. It snows biweekly and my hands remain cold cold cold. Frozen. Nothing but warmth to relieve the numb on the inside and then they are all soft and warm. Warm tones and fire and my hands are temporarily not frozen. But I'll always brave the wind again, with only warm tones and hopes of fireplaces and hot chocolate to power my trudging over the snow and ice. The warmth can't return soon enough, but I know it's fleeting. So I search for warmth in others.

Ye. I likes this piece. Ignore the hand and the hand I refused to draw.