silver and cold

today is a silver lined day, the cold pressing in on my skin like fabric.
the scarf around my neck pulls tight like a noose and i feel tired,
i turn my eyes to the darkening sky with a sigh and pull my sleeves down
over my dry hands. trees clothed in tinfoil and silver spangles encircle me,
small piles of dirty snow mingling at each foot.
the wind pulls my hair around my eyes and i shiver,
turning back towards home with the intent of walking faster,
focused only on the dim light in the distance.

Reviews

[The Perfectionist]

Okay, edited version. The tree line is much better, but now you created a problem with solving one.

"small piles of dirty snow mingling at each foot."

I understand what you're trying to say with this line, but this is not the way to say it. Maybe "small piles of dirty snow mingling under each one." instead? I don't know; saying "at each foot" just can have too many meanings if not taken in direct context.

Much better though

[The Perfectionist]

It's not often I meet a poem where I can identify exactly what I don't like about it. In an otherwise well-imaged and well-written poem, two things stand out.

"theres a small tree to my left covered in tinfoil and christmas ornaments,"

To be blunt, this line sucks. The early part of the poem flirts on the metaphorical while being descriptive, but this one just...doesn't. Your early similes create a dream-like world that isn't quite real, and that's where your story belongs. Grounding it with something like that just ruins it.

My only other complain is your use of the word 'awfully'. I reread that line three different times, trying to make it flow with the rest of it, but I couldn't do it. You could substitute a different word if you like, but I would just take it out altogether, ending the line with shiver.

With that aside, this is one of few poems that actually gave me an image in my head, so well done.