Winter is coming,
I can feel it in my bones—
That definite chill
That clings to the air
And the ominous disappearance
Of the blue, blue sky.
Mornings are cold,
So much chillier
Than before.
The frigid air that wraps
Around the blanket cocoon
That keeps me warm
In the safety
Of the dreamscape
Where summer still exists.
I dread the early mornings
The same one every day
That is no different
But for the time of the year
And the sun
Yet to rise.
I wake up every morning
And sigh that heavy sigh
Wishing the summer
That had left
With all its
Horrid,
Inescapable heat,
Would come back
And warm my bones again
In a way that hot cocoa
Only achieves
For the space of twenty minutes.
Sometimes I just pretend
That autumn is still here
That it isn’t just an imagined phase
Of seasons
That this year chose
To skip over
And throw me into
The depths of winter
And its chilly hell.
There is an unidentifiable itch
At the back of my throat
Coupled with the later
Morning
Wake ups
And the constant need to
Moisten
The dry fields
Of parched land
At the back of my throat.
I sigh and think
With a heavy reluctance
Reaching for that
Soothing
Miracle—
The cough drop—
That maybe,
Just maybe,
I should accept
The chill that clings to my bones,
The midnight mornings,
And hot cups of comforting cocoa,
And maybe, just maybe
Winter is here.
enjoyed this pleasant wintrey read 🙆❄