Pants vs today

It turns to grey. The dark creeping sense of cold that overtakes the mornings, before the sun comes up.
I sit outside overlooking this future, hot tea and cigarettes. My mind creates all the perfection of the landscape with it's dead grass and dying trees. It's lovely here, without the snow. But I crave the small stillness it's blanket white would create.
I miss the drive between Ottawa and Hamilton. I miss Toronto springing up out of no where, or the foliage breaking through metropolis. I never know if I miss the coming more, or the going. But either way, it's lost.