Climate Change

Like a puppy dog, young winter playfully nips at wrists and ankles. Mild mannered winds have cool moods now, at night they sulk and sink to the foot of the bed where only yesterday your feet glowed like a clowns nose. You sleep not, not even in socks and it sucks. By dawns early light young winter is no more, in its place is a snarly winter wolf and though it is early, even for breakfast. you hungrily fix yourself a double cheeseburger and of course another for the werewolf that is now howling at the front door.