Dave Bonta's poem is only a few words long, yet it sketches a whole small scene: two people lying in bed on a winter afternoon. The title, "Abed," is an old-fashioned word for being in bed, and it sets a slow, unhurried tone before the first line even begins.
The speaker doesn't tell us what they feel, but the details suggest contentment and closeness. Afternoon is usually a time for being up and busy, so staying in bed implies rest, or a pause from the day's demands. The cold season outside makes the warmth of the bed and the nearness of "my wife" feel even more precious. The dash before the last line works like a breath, letting the image of the season settle in. The mood is hushed, intimate, and still. Nothing happens, and that seems to be the point: the poem treats an ordinary, quiet moment together as something worth noticing.