The Winter of My Discontent by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 4:37 P.M.
The days shorten and hours spent.
The trees are baren of their leaves,
A chill upon the air came and went.The skies darken and cloud over,
And shadows now hardly loom.
I huddle close to the fire in my chair,
And keep solemnly to a single room.
My bones ache under a blanket,
And visible the warmth of breath.
Cold and shivering my fingers curl,
As if I’m close to catch my death.
No company to entertain or visitor,
I alone in the silence keep still.
The frozen iron of snow and ice,
Come to test my strength and will.
I feel every ounce of bitter cold,
Through my flesh cracked and wrent.
Dire and dreary the season knows,
The winter of my discontent.