Sunny day, bright sky,
Yet the chill in the air
Cuts through the thin fabric
Of my sweater.
Warmth upon my skin
Greatly welcomed but
Vanishes without warning.
Some days, resting in the grass,
Soaking up the rays that
Burst through fluffy clouds.
Other days hidden,
Behind walls to protect myself
From the harsh winds.
Cold. I hate the cold. Waiting.
For the warmth to take over
Most days. Winter ending.
I don’t miss the early darkness.
Comforting sunsets by fires,
Wind bringing pleasantries,
Not chilled bones.
I wait for those days.
Yearning for those days,
Before darkness returns.
They are soon.