Cold Feet


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The sun is surely in the winter doldrums
Its’ shows up late every morning
And leaving early at the end of the day
With no enthusiasm to share any of its’ warmth

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What about the rest of us
Caught up in the sun’s cyclical moods
Having to face all on our own
Arctic cold fronts,
Cars that won’t start
Furnaces that won’t shut off
With cold feet, cold hands and faces
And (SAD) Seasonal Affective Disorder

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Yes we could leave
Enticed by family and friends
Who boast of warmer climes
Of topical islands
Lust and green

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But what about the others
Who have to remain behind
Now that the holidays are over
Who can they complain too?
What is misery if it can’t be shared
So we stay put
With the other fools
And do our countdown

To when the sun may change her mood

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