Poetry

Cold

Being cold is the worst, regardless of how warm you keep your mind allows the breeze freeze your happy thoughts

She never liked the cold, the rain, the very odd summer days

The dark shades of the sun, its inability to shake living being’s growth spurts

The cold is the worse, a reminder of the fragility of one’s body yet alone mind

She always finds herself frozen in the midst of her thoughts,

The constant worry and questioning even in perfectly sound situations

Cold is not always the best time

Browsing though her repertoire, yearning for that connection that touch

Something she knows lies out there, able, determined and understanding

The cold is…

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