The coldest cold

Many apparitions of cold don’t bother me:
I don’t care for the cool of the glass
against my feverish head,
nor the breeze in Summer
that makes the night bearable
but the windows clap,

nor the frost in your eyes
that don’t look me in the face
as I ignore the icicles from your breath
when you feel the need to speak at last;
I have learned to dress warm.

Never though I get used
to the dog’s indifference
now you are his boss
and I a pedestrian walking by.

Comments on: "The coldest cold" (14)

  1. Beautiful poem Ina, truly beautiful!!!!

  2. Hi Ina,

    This is a great poem. So sad though.

    I love the line “i have learned to dress warm” . That is brilliant!

    Love and hugs xx

  3. Really lovely, Ina. For me it is one to feel more than think about. XO

  4. Sad and wryly funny at the same time.

  5. This is an absolutely terrific poem Ina,

    The last stanza is so chilling – it made me shudder.

    (((Big Irish Hugs)))

    David
    xxx

    • Hi David,

      thank you very much 🙂 I find it great that I can make you shudder 🙂

      {{{{ Big Dutch Hugs }}}}

      much love, xxx

  6. Truly Stunning Ina – phewww…

  7. Excellente’…

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