Eyes crusted,
brittle bits
Of dream dust
Flake off
as I try to rise
and face
the light blue
morning sky.

Bare feet,
short sleeved,
shirt, and soft
sweat pants
wear me
as I rush
carefully
outside
to my ride
to grab
the stuff I need.

Cold winds
stab me
deep frigid daggers
invigorating.
I growl like
a warrior of
long ago days
awakened in
frosted fury.

What a beautiful day
I bellow
to no one
as I run back in
smiling,
brave and powerful.

The door does not open.
I knock but no one
comes to meet me.
I shiver
sighing deeply
“**** its cold.”