Damn, it’s cold.
Icy as hell.
Well, Icy as
the North Pole.
Brrr. It’s cold
outside. I feel
my bones ache
with each step.
My nose turns
red. My head
will freeze
as it hits
a chilly breeze.
Shivers erupt
as I shake
the hot chocolate
inside the
foam cup
I’m holding.
Damn, it’s cold
outside. A good
time to stay
inside. I’ll stay
near a fire-
place with
a lit-up face.
It’s where I
need to be.
It’s warmth
I desire.
The air becomes thicker each mile I go
and my feet trudge through the Winter’s snow.
Trees hold onto sap mid-drip,
holding on tight, resisting the drift.
Ice covers the ground but remains see-through
and shows the struggles others have been through.
Cold and afraid, I set up for the night
and I take myself out of sight.
Morning comes and so does the worry
that I wont make it without a hurry.
Caught in the middle of life and death:
I ride the line till’ there’s nothing left.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 