December of My Life

It’s a dark month as the coldness seeps into my very pores I welcome the bitterness of winter with my face turned away As the winds seem to pick up in this northeastern locale Temperatures seem to rise and fall upon its own thought No control, have I, to fight against the coming brutality For I feel the pressure, the anger, of the season’s young winds As I, stepping, zipping, not my coat, but my heart against it now I still venture out, to where my feet and heart allow me to go