Intrusion of Winter

an autobiography in cold

A. Christine Myers
1 min readNov 11, 2019
Photo by Viktor Kern on Unsplash

The cold, the wet,
Gray, eyeless dawn,
Winds of mocking winter

Hell
Is no better
When
You
Can skate
On it.

Fragile memory,
Soundless wail, chilled
Within a toxic womb

Thin blankets
Pulled up over head,
Suffocating to stop the cold

Lean jacket and tights
Against November rain,
Shivering no use

Feet against wall heater;
Bright snow brings no cheer,
Only more pain

Down jacket, half-empty
Of feathers, dreams
Postponed by winter

Rush to the door
Before shaking begins,
Hands already numb

Walk slow against white wind,
Avoid passing out,
Heart stronger than pain

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