Sunny day, bright sky,

Yet the chill in the air

Cuts through the thin fabric

Of my sweater.

Warmth upon my skin

Greatly welcomed but

Vanishes without warning.

Some days, resting in the grass,

Soaking up the rays that

Burst through fluffy clouds.

Other days hidden,

Behind walls to protect myself

From the harsh winds.

Cold. I hate the cold. Waiting.

For the warmth to take over

Most days. Winter ending.

I don't miss the early darkness.

Comforting sunsets by fires,

Wind bringing pleasantries,

Not chilled bones.

I wait for those days.

Yearning for those days,

Before darkness returns.

They are soon.