December in My Shed Office

This month and next the temperature’s as low
as it will be all year, at my address.
It isn’t even freezing, but you know
we aren’t built to weather frostiness.
I use a wooden shed to store the mess
of paper, upright bike, and my PC.
And though my heater’s on and warm’s my dress,
the space is finger-numbing cold to me.

(Huitain)

This entry was posted in Home, Poetry, Weather and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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