To Brave the Cold

Looking out a window at the snow covered ground,
I ponder if it's worth stepping outside today.
How I'd rather grab some coffee and a book,
Snuggle up next to the warm stove.

Responsibility overrules the stalling,
My feet comfortably toasty in slippers.
"Alright" I grumble to myself,
As I sigh dramatically to no one in particular.

I first grab the necessary layers needed,
Five layers to be exact, to risk the cold.
I stand there staring at the extra clothes,
"Why am I doing this?" I think, yet again.

"Right, responsibility" I mumble in halfheartedness.
I quickly put on the first layer, as teeth chatter.
The second layer seems a bit easier,
The third layer is a bit more stiff.

By the time I get the fourth layer on,
I start to understand the Tin Man a bit.
The inability to move my extremities,
I start to question the need for a fifth layer.

Never the less! I surely will need it,
Putting on five layers, the struggle is real.
I am now sweating and questioning my sanity,
Feeling the need to abandon ship, like; NOW!

Oh no, I forgot the hat, and the gloves,
How am I going to get those on now?
Using yoga poses not yet done before,
As well as teeth and more grumbling.

I now look as if I'm ready for battle,
I dare say I could even stop a bullet.
Walking as though my joints have rusted,
I finally brave the outdoors.

My face feels the immediate burn,
Cold; how cruel you are.
Only fire should feel like burning,
Yet you bite and burn just the same.

As quickly as my body is able,
I do what needs done and tending.
Waddling like a penguin as I think,
"How much longer till spring?"


I make my way back inside to warmth,
Shedding each layer after layer.
They make a nice pile on the floor,
As I sip my coffee and read, ignoring the mess.

Cold; you are better seen than felt.
More beautiful outside, seen through glass.
You are a funny thing indeed,
I think my infatuation of you has finally faded.



Copyright 2017 Lauren Hall ©