Cold air is heavier.
Its density
has a propensity
to hold us in place,
inside,
asleep.
It is enough
to make one weep
who loves the heat.
I welcome it
for its cooling property,
its innate ability
to calm and soothe
the painful reality
of an overheated,
seemingly defeated,
world once at peace.
Oh, it was but a brief
moment in time
when hope was alive
and the country thrived,
and nations strived
to help democracy
overcome autocracy.
But, I digress
under great stress.
Cold air is weighted
with shards of ice
torn loose from northern fields,
with such power to wield
that it weighs down sunrise,
to no one’s surprise.
It puts the worker bees to sleep.
They awaken inside flowers
lacking the power
to find their way to their hives.
Cold air makes dreams
more difficult to bear,
their messages too heavily aware
of all the world’s problems
fair and unfair.
Autumn is here
and the world bows down
under the new weight.
Winter is not far away.
I cannot wait!
As sun rises the only sound
is the song of geese southward bound.
I place the heating pad round
a sore back from bending down
to plant bulbs squirrels have already found.
Soon, snow will coat the frozen ground.
annarino writes 