Miserable

It is at this point that we just begin comparing one miserable day to the next.

What is the level of miserable today?

Is the cold wind blowing more today than yesterday,

Reducing the “real feel” temperature to a ridiculous below zero

And even when the thermometer on the corner of the shed says 12 degrees?

Does the newly fallen snow, which some have the stupidity to call pretty,

Have that helpful crust that at least catches the crunch of your foot,

So that you don’t fall flat and dislocate the same hip,

Again?

Does the sun come out as a cruel joke and heartless reminder

Of your pleasant summer days running on the beach

And taunt you with the sad remembrance that running on the beach days are long behind you

And shatter you with rapid realization that you may have seen your last beach?

Do you increasingly hope that if you think of an eventual spring long enough

The misery of the upcoming winter will melt away, even temporarily?

Do you find that you wish you were anywhere but here,

Alone in this cold, cold world?