the wooden door is pulled open,
its safe protective seal broken,
my blanket of warmth is defaced;
stale-dry-frigid air rushes in,
falls briskly upon my skin,
the comfortable shelter is replaced;
on the smooth blue-tiled-floor, mist rolls,
like wispy-white escaping souls,
winter’s suffocating grip takes hold;
the ill-placed-heater roars to life,
it hisses and groans and struggles and strifes,
to warm me and fight off the cold;
a truly epic battle rages,
as it has through all the ages,
but already time has shown who will win;
I feel it in my toes, in my heals,
the warmness leaving, the cold reveals,
a desperate longing for where I’ve been;
I bring my foot up off the floor,
unable to take anymore,
of my shivering frame that is frail;
in defeat, the door is pushed closed,
the coldest story ever told,
in my Alaska winters tale.
Related posts: