Day 11: Oh, the cold!

Balmy days turn flat on their face

A blistering wind

But is it? Perhaps I’ve gone soft with the warm sun’s promises

Wind from the north blows ice and snow under my neck

And I retreat indoors

And layer up

 

 

 

Dogs can wait for walks

Because Springtime-Me

Has been activated and won’t

Turn

Back to the cold

 

 

 

The sun warms my most secret of desires

Awoken by the smell

Of new Apple buds and

Hawthorn leaves that taste of

Spicy sugar

 

 

Pheromones of horny birds

Have stirred my being

And no!

I will not go back

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