How do you feel about cold weather?
Cold weather?
It steals the trail from under my feet,
wraps the woods in silence not of peace but pause.
Each frostbit branch feels like a locked gate
keeping me from the wild that steadies my soul.
I was made for dirt under nails,
not numb fingertips fumbling for zippers.
Give me sweat over shiver,
sunburnt shoulders over chapped lips.
Winter cages what I crave,
and I am not one for stillness.
Let spring thaw me back to life.
Let me move again. Let me breathe again.
Say it. Don’t spray it.