Cold
No breath can be caught
against the harsh wind
pushing your lungs inward
until you hide your mouth
on the side of a building
just to gasp for air
Frigid snow boots stomp
over the icy grasslands
letting the hope of sun
burrow into each footstep
I don’t feel much when
the snow and ice come
because these veins
have been drinking
cold water every day
in the shadow of light
© Jonathan Greene, October 14, 2026
