cold

This cold
as mild as one can claim
it is
is sneaking to my skin
fast
like a layar of discomfort
close
to driving me mad.

Between my boots
and my socks
between my jacket
and my sweater
between my gloves
and my sleeves
sneaking in
like a thief
an univited guest
we forget about
as soon as snow falls
and we can play
snow angels
and build snow men
and women and children;
this is when we do not care
we do not mind
and for a day
we do not long
for spring.