Fleeing The Icy Morning

Shards of icy glass

slap my sleep-lined face.

The cold, unforgiving,

like a Queen bee to her hive.

**

Air weave icicles

within in my nose; my gaze,

searching for warmth,

my gaze settles on the

cornflower sky,

dotted with

fleece white clouds.

**

Dogs limp around,

trying to escape the

bitter snow,

mirroring my

own discomfort.

**

The brutal wind,

a scout’s warning,

whistles through barren trees,

a frantic tune to winter’s melody.

**

Winds crash like a

invisible force

slamming my wool covered

body.

**

Summoning my dogs,

we seek shelter,

bitter air gripping us

like prisoners of frost.

**

The door resists, stuck fast.

I pull with my last

threads of my energy.

Warming rushes in,

like a Mother’s loving hug,

hushing the cold from our souls.