I stand here
In the frigid cold
Berate
The lateness of the bus

Dance about the icy ground
So I don’t skate
Bemoan my frostbitten
Fingers
Although I may
Exaggerate

Until I look past my whining
Up to the sky
And let out a bewildered sigh

At the brilliant shades
Of pinks of blues
Bespoken hues
Whispered love songs
That make me think of you

And warmth seeps in
To tips of fingers
All the way
To my frosty toes
And my lips can’t help
But stretch wide

Where once a frown
This smile
Can no longer hide

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