Cold Plans

Winter cold is slipping in through hundred year old walls Shiver trees wave empty limbs to fast receding Fall Arms and creaky joints of bones compete in aching pain As tips of fingers swell and split the bunions complain Silently depression seeps and slips into my brain But out there in the cold and rain upon the deck we built There waits a wondrous warming wealth Of bubbles jets and steam We’ll rush out there in naked stealth Then sit and soak with wine And when we’re cooked We’ll rush to bed And dive into a dream Divine