Another Winter Dreaded

It seems I must live through
Another dreaded winter.
It is not the cold I mind so much.
And even though I tell myself that the distance
From home is what kills me, I know
That that is not true
In the strictest sense. Whence
Then this fear, this isolation,
This feeling of screaming in a soundproof room
This feeling of living in a noisy grave.

This beautiful, cold, hard city does not know me,
And what is worse, she could not care less. Best then
To make the best of her bare trees, her bitter snows,
Her brittle smiles, her beautiful bones.