How good the cold air
feels on the face
after a morning inside.
I try to tell myself
it could work this way
with the heart, too—
a little winter
when there’s been
so much heat—
but the heart does
not believe me
and zips up its coat.
October 23, 2015 by Rosemerry
How good the cold air
feels on the face
after a morning inside.
I try to tell myself
it could work this way
with the heart, too—
a little winter
when there’s been
so much heat—
but the heart does
not believe me
and zips up its coat.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged cold, heart, love, poem, poetry | 1 Comment
Ah, you are changing into your winter poetic wardrobe:-)