Winter is Hard

Winter is hard.

Dragging lugubrious time spread out over frozen ground.

The landscape set in variations of black and gray conceals

Latent life buried below, silent and waiting under a chill.

And mirroring a sky brushed with wind.

I find myself getting fat for no reason and I am always cold.

The urge for hibernation is strong.

I want to curl up, hide away.

Instead, I go out swaddled in the heavy scarf and black puffer coat.

Insignias waved, not only by me, of temperature extremis.

I smile behind the layers.

If anyone can see the useless effort there is no acknowledgement,

My false optimism is wasted.

One more indignity or could it be a reprieve?

Few can tell my age.

An introverted sun behind clouds sinks, too soon, towards the horizon,

Without cozy gatherings of friends or family around a fire.

Only weather marks the passing of daylight, evening and night,

I am tired and darkness calls me to my bed,

Repeating the mantra through the falling snow,

Winter is hard.