Painfully Cold

Painfully Cold

By Krysta Bell

It's so cold it hurts.

Aching fingers, chilling cheeks;

if I laugh to hard my teeth freeze.

My eyes squint, fingers go numb.

It's so lonely;

No dogs to play with, break a trail

or chase away this lonely mind.

The harsh wind mutes my thoughts.

The sun peers through the clouds,

only to be mocked by a desolate world.

Each step I take is a new found frustration,

for the deep snow confines my tired limbs.

I lay back in the snow beneath me.

Arch my back, bend my knee,

the perfect temporary seat,

shielded from the wind.

I stare at the clouded sky,

absorbed in my mind,

caught up in the city,

illusioned into thinking I am busy.

The snow gets pushed into dirty piles,

and the sidewalk become an uneven trail.

Snow falls patiently,

Only to become slush under our tires.

I prefer the wind,

I enjoy the treachery,

When it is silent.

I miss the good old days,

I miss my dog,

I feel the triumph in my sore muscles,

and strength in my face.

Effort is a terrible thing to waste!

Krysta Bell ~ 2000

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