The speaker wakes in the dark and goes through the familiar morning routine: kicking off the covers, taking a long hot shower, drinking coffee. These habits, the poem says, give the mind room to drift while memory reshapes whatever is left of sleep. Then the poem turns to something stranger: dreams in which you wake up and forget all those habits. In that state, walking outside naked in winter seems perfectly normal.
From there the poem slips fully into the dream. The snow is "alive," rippling, with blue flames moving through the trees like fish. The line "remember?" suggests the speaker is trusting an older, half-forgotten knowledge. The final image, fur growing along the spine, is calm rather than frightening. The mood is dreamy and quietly thrilling, as if shedding routine lets a more animal, instinctive self emerge, at home in the cold and the wild.