First Frost

Return to heavy, layered clothes Purple lips and frozen toes One last breath before it snows Loathsome precipitation The land now strewn with slippery patches Bye the wood stove, extra matches Time to batten down the hatches Human hibernation The months meander, oh so slow The cold impedes the rivers flow The flowers weep, and wait to grow I should be on vacation There is some good, I do suppose Snow topped trees in splendid rows And all mosquitoes surely froze Yet I'm filled with anticipation For summer reveals my sunny side I rub my eyes and step outside To walk bare foot through turning tide Still six more months of frustration