Waking in the morning,

the pain almost unbearable

my hands raw, swollen, blistered.

The night before, a blur;

drinking, walking home in the snow

cold that seemed relentless.

Cheyenne in winter

no place to be exposed;

a sour look from the medic.

Wrapping my hands in gauze,

unable to feel them any longer

the healed slowly.

The skin peeled painfully

layer by layer as it mended

until pink, tender new skin

appeared.