Winter

The wind chilly and unforgiving
Blows through tiny pores in my shack,
As early as the Morning star
I can feel the Cold.

My blankets feel wet and icy,
My toes go numb.
I lie still and dare not move...
Lest I disturb the barren space next to me.
My hands rush to in-between my thighs
With my lips I kiss my knees.

Soon I slumber to sleep
Moments tick by on the clock above me
I start and stare aloft!
The icicle from the roof has fallen on my brow
This is a Good sign!

Wide awake my eye twinkles
A peep though an opening confirms my instincts
The Sun has come?
Come to rescue me
From this terrible, terrible Cold!

I climb out of bed to witness the Sunrise
The pitter-patter behind my shack
Is the frost melting under the sun.
A smile cracks my lips for my rescuer has come.

But the Sun is so weak, sombre and subdued.
This season: Cruel and unforgiving...