Consequence of loss

The shock of the cold weather is something we should be used too after living all these years, why does it never feel that way?


The ice-cold air stings ears

Its whistle stimulates tears

You only popped to the shops

But it’s as though they’re lopped

Off. Push cycle peddles harder

If colder but it’s faster

Ignore the hood of your hoodie

It’s not cool, youthful but shoddy

This will teach you a must

As off the bus too late you cussed

That favourite warm hat gone

It’s too late for looking wan

It’s an age degrading mind

That finds many things left behind

The ice-cold air stings ears

It whistles, not calming those deeper fears.