I’m tired of winter’s empty sunshine. I stand outside at noon and feel no warmth. The snow does not melt. Like God turned down the thermostat just a bit too far. Depression, rising along the cold’s icy back, seeps through the layers of clothes. It may win soon.
Then one day it’s not so cold. A distant hope, or a temporary delusion? One less layer of clothing. Is this freedom or am I shedding security. Is there safety in my winter coat? Is the weather trying to kill me? Is the wind my mortal enemy? Do I need some sleep?