poetry diary

Crisp crunch of iced snow,
Tingling toes touched through shoes
Which are no defence
Against this frozen earth and air. 

Quiet, but hard, not gentle –
The ground meets knees and hips
Instantly if you slip. 
And the grip of frozen footprints on the pavement looks strong. 

So cold, in the wind. 
So cold, outside. 
So cold, the air. 

Mulled wine and a fireside –
Imagined warmth;
Lasts the whole walk to work.