Winter

Days like these are more like endless nights,

You forget the sun once shone.

The pretence of hibernation, yet I’m awake.

It’s nice to have the seasons but that thought doesn’t warm me when I’m chilled to the bone.

Wrapped up like an onion, layer upon layer of insulation.

Movements like a doll that won’t bend.

One consolation: the cold gives you carte blanche for copious amounts of hot chocolate.

Calories will be burnt in the winters chill.

All too soon in the distance future,

The days will be longer and warmer, the nights balmy and restless.

And I’ll reminisce, and long for one of those crisp, cosy days.

Not quite yet though.