The sun has finally risen above the horizon,
Filling my day with light as I leave the house,
But it isn’t high enough to warm me with its rays,
To warm the grass in the yard,
Looking so fragile with its layer of frost,
That I don’t dare to step on it.
I can see the breath leave my lips,
Like I just took a puff of a cigarette,
Even though I had never participated in that habit.
The brisk air turns my cheeks red as I walk,
My hands forced to leave their pockets to open my car,
But I am feeling grateful,
That I had the foresight,
To defrost my car windshield earlier,
So not only can I quickly go to work,
But I can do so in a warm car.
About the Creator
Rebecca Patton
Ever since discovering Roald Dahl, I wanted to be an author who would delight and move her readers through her stories. I also wrote my debut novel, "Of Demons and Deception" on Amazon.
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Political Thirty-Three
Inevitable? A woman named Good is lost. Unforgivable. * Note: I don't think that I have to explain this one to anyone noting recent news, but I have included a video link below for future generations who can still feel empathy and compassion for someone who got caught up in history. And I was just too angry to say more with this piece.
By Kendall Defoe 3 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
The reluctance of the hands to leave the pockets, that was sooo relatable hehehe. Loved your poem!