Wind Chill
The temperature is 21 -
Though cold, it fits the season,
But that does not explain why,
While out walkin,’ I was freezin.’
For when you factor wind chill in,
It feels like single digits
And teeth that chatter from the cold
Have naught to do with fidgets.
The streets are filled with boxes
Left out for the garbage truck,
Which, when hit with gale-force blastings,
Couldn’t help but fly amok.
To those who aren’t used to
Cold that chills you to the bone,
Blame it mainly on that wintry wind
That won’t leave us alone.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment