Some cold months serve as great inspiration for drama.
It’s a dark month as the coldness seeps into my very pores
I welcome the bitterness of winter with my face turned away
As the winds seem to pick up in this northeastern locale
Temperatures seem to rise and fall upon its own thought
No control, have I, to fight against the coming brutality
For I feel the pressure, the anger, of the season’s young winds
As I, stepping, zipping, not my coat, but my heart against it now
I still venture out, to where my feet and heart allow me to go
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
