Icy Winds....Mid January Blues.

 

Icy winds    

Icy winds blow

across my

knitted brow,
knocking the

cap right off of me,
smuuuush....a blue hat
bitterly blasted beneath

a biege mini-bus
just more

winter road kill,
my headless

hat lies splayed.

My gloves are

not snug enough,
around my hands
as frigid fingers

forcefully attempt

to creep in

to tight

leather bindings
 holding my own

digits hostage.

My toes are

ten metal slugs,
dipped in freon,
and expressing no feeling
in their humble

boot camps.

My ears are beet

red and burning,
seeking shelter
in the bush

of my hair
they huddle in
convoluted shapes.

My nose is

Mt. Mckinely
that snowy part

at the top,

and beneath
lie twin caves 
filled with

stalactites
of frozen

nostril hairs
blocking all entry.

My hair has

been blasted into
frosty curlicues,
naturally blown,

and styled much
like Kramer

from Sienfeld.

I am

a popsicle,
who is

sonless
because he

is in school
but thoughts of him
bring frozen grins
as I move

on through
the icy winds.

 

 

 

 

©-MFB III


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