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Image for the poem Baby, it

Baby, it's cold outside

Coals
deepened red
toast to time
this chilling hour
where watched clocks
freeze
as I scrape out powder
emptying ash
made in preparation
for cold hearted winter

Howling winds
scrape long nails
of trees barren.
The leaf of all gone
where insignificant
man
twiddles thumbs
balancing twigs
in tepee pyre
long hibernations, cries and coats

Coarse decoration
is in order
scratching at minds
huddled in corner
a long sigh
a drink of mimosa
then deep sleep, blankets and pillow
there décor paused upon holiday
adorns, painted flowers, douglas fir
Yule see logs sawed blazing heat
Written by souladareatease
Published
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