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by Delilah Coyne

Cold winter wind bites my cheeks
leaves them chapped and angry-pink

Sweater knit like a sieve
letting December in against my arms and back

Hugging myself tighter
willing warmth to my fingers and nose

The cold is hungry,
gnashing and gnawing.
Pressing against my back
relentless in its quest
to steal my warmth.

The sunshine lies
Blue skies deceive
This cold should be gray


Author's Note: brrrrr...

Posted on 11/22/2008
Copyright © 2020 Delilah Coyne

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/23/08 at 05:58 AM

Damn right, eh? Hungry, and it never seems to get enough. Loved this.

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