Wild, I tell you, with its cold.
I see out the window, that all, seems, fine.
Opening the door, hand sticking to the metal,
The air ripping my face, I venture out,
Trusting that I can do a thing or two.
But I can not.
Biting chill, creeping beneath clothes, causing one to lose, breath.
Moving quickly to the garage, I do a thing and return quickly to the house.
The balm of warm air greets, wraps, comforts, all at once.
A wonderful blessing on a cold winter day.
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