Tuesday, January 19, 2016

tiny poem tuesday

It doesn't matter...
if you're sitting directly
in the sun's light
or running hard
along a gravel path.


It makes no difference
whether you drink
cup after cup of hot tea
or smother yourself
in the arms of loved ones.


Sometimes,
the bitter cold has seeped
into your bones, your bowels,
your deepest recesses;


Sometimes,
the blighting chill has burrowed itself
into your core, your essence,
the intangible gist of you;


And leaves you shaking.

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