Waking Up in Winter
Well cocooned in winter blankets
I cling on to skirts of sleeping,
while uneasy dreams are shredded,
gone before I grasp at meaning.
Let me stay a little, hidden
in this cozy muffled stillness,
pulling up a layered muting
over morning sounds and greyness.
I admit that I’m delaying
facing cold and morning muddle,
stiffness and my fears of ageing,
while I’m curled in this self-cuddle.
Though I try to stay suspended,
something swings me into rising:
I remember impulse purchase,
soft warm pants with stripes surprising.
As I slip into their colour,
I am heartened by such boldness,
red to ward off melancholy,
grey of clouds and winter coldness.
Clown-like legs – can’t help but smiling
as I stumble into morning!
Coloured comical, I’m strengthened;
I can picture wings are forming!
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I love your pants and how they flash and warm as you go out from the self-cuddle.
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