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
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