Arising before the rooster crows, and seething in the cold.
A Magical Land of White and Frost. Most would say a delight.
Though in my mind's eye, the first frost, is a fright.
The cold seeps into my veins like a metallic poison,
never once wavering in it's unwanted penetration.
"Go away why don't you?" I shout out to the wind,
at these times I wonder why a frosted lens grants me annoyance.
Do not bother my cocoon of warmth as I awake,
Unless of course you bring Chocolate of the hot kind,
and bacon piled on a plate.
YOU ARE READING
Dichotomy
PuisiThe observant is always watching. Humanity is here and thriving, but our world won't be surviving our reign. Alive, but not noticed in living. Here we are. A new life, new words, a new start. Aug. 12th 2019 - June 18th 2021 Vol. 1
