I had a winter fling.

The sun went down early

But our fire was alive

Through the night.

His warm chocolate hands

Held me forever

Till the steam had

Escaped.

Lying amongst the fallen. Photo by Kyra. 

O, how I loathe thee —

When you touch me, I feel the need to shower twice a day.

No longer can I sleep.

I wake up in the middle of the night, remembering your presence.

I must clothe my body with thick garments, so you are not tempted

To enter me.

You make me sick. You make my friends sick.

Why do others love you so?

Dizzy, weak and frail am I with you.

I can’t go outside. I only want to live, breathe, enjoy life.

But you have taken that all away from me.

O, how I loathe thee —

Winter.

A blanket of white has crept o’er the heavens.

Was the sky ever blue; did the sun ever shine? 

Or were both of these visions, Naught but deceptions?

Boldly, leafless trees stand against the ashen sky. 

A solemn beauty could it be,

But for the rawness which beckons from outside.

Despite the lack of rain the humidity is rife.

There are droplets on my bicycle;

Toleration begins to wane.

My fingers burn like ice while I grip the handlebars.

And as the cold envelops us, Five layers no longer suffice.

He says,

As we ride by the fog, cars and trees,

“Only crazy people ride their bikes in Winter”.

I laugh.

But as we pedal on,

I can’t help but agree.