The skies are gray.

The clouds all hiss and spit 

A cold fine mist 

At everyone and everything.

I am chilled to the very bone

The very core of my being

And pout because I don't want to go out

And do anything.

But as I'm thinking about this and that,

You come calling in my mind,

Peeking in my window,

Smiling,

Coaxing me out of my shell

And into an apple pie reverie.

I climb out the window and go with you

Down a sunny path

On a forest hike.

You're the only Winter I like.

-jenn