Ode to the Cold

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You slow me down

and make

me rest.

 

Tissues 

fill the basket

as I sniffle

until my nose 

is chafed,

scraped,

sore.

 

You are like

a leech

sucking 

the energy 

out of me

until I fall

to the floor.

 

You make me crave

chicken noodle soup

and tea,

yet you strip

me of my

taste buds,

and I enjoy 

nothing,

only rest and sleep.

 

You are an oncoming

train,

crashing

 and bashing

my head in.

 

You are my enemy

stealing from me

my voice,

my energy,

my vitality.

  

You are my friend,

commanding me

to stop 

and rest

for just awhile.

 

You are my nemesis,

outwitting me,

as I think 

I have you beat

you come again,

to show me

who’s boss.

 

 

Here you

are with me

hitting me,

stopping me

making me rest.

 

 

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3 thoughts on “Ode to the Cold

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