The cold bites through my fingertips,
my feet ache from its hex,
piercing ‘round my ears it came,
then through my body next.
Waiting warm inside my coat,
I thought my heart was safe,
but no, unhindered nothingness,
ate through my outer plate.
I sped my pace to heat my legs,
to keep my kneecaps on.
I’m sure my joints are frozen stiff,
where has the warmth all gone?
Imagining a fire’s blaze
encircling the stones,
perhaps a coal inside my boot,
would help my icy bones.
To read the rest of the poem, please purchase WORDS!
© 2013 Peter Gillespie