Chilly mornings,
My shivers speak
Of the winter's call.
Frost-bitten air
Nips at my nose,
And fingertips turn pale.
The world outside
Is painted silver and blue,
A canvas for the season.
But in this moment,
I am a bundle of goosebumps,
Hugging myself for warmth.
I long for the comfort
Of a hot cup of tea,
And the heat of the sun on my skin.
But for now, I am here,
In the stillness of the chill,
Bracing myself against the cold.
Copyright Adam R Sweet 2023. All Rights Reserved.