See you in Winter when night draws in.

Not for me the high sun and its lulling heat

Turning life sluggish and hazy. Lazy.

I prefer the sharp , the cutting fresh of a morning frost.

The soft duvet of a million snowflakes.

Not for me the whirring of a thousand lawnmowers

The outdoor screams of a water fight.

I prefer the indoor light.

The mellow yellow of a hundred candles

The flicker of fire against dark walls.

You won’t find me crisping up and turning brown

I prefer porcelain, smooth and cool

No lounging by the pool.

I’ll be tucked up tight in a nook

Travelling by book.

The endless day brings me little calm

More time to fill. More time to kill.

I am night owl,  wolf on the prowl.

I am much less out of kilter

In Winter.

(c) Slumpless

One thought on “Winterland

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