Dead of Winter

Dead of Winter

White feathery frosts of ice on grass
And trees.  Heavy frigid breaths to pass,
With blustery icy cold wind on your face.
Damp paths and wet cold roads trace
A pattern and icicles hang from gutters.

Mist swirls around wispy folds unwinds
And forms cold clumps of foggy binds
Like some super glue in low lying lands,
That saps the strength and chills the hands.
Of stamping feet of cold dead legs

With cars not starting and batteries dead
And frosted windscreens is enough said...

~David Wood

As I post, it's -4º with a windchill of -24º, and the temperature is on the way down.  Today as I was drinking my morning coffee, looking at Facebook, and trying to rid myself of a horrendous headache, I saw some interesting advice on the screen.  A friend posted an idea that made me think.  He said one should buy hand warmers and keep them in the car to give to homeless.  This advice was followed by statistics of homeless who die of hypothermia.  Since I often drive by homeless on my way to church, I went out tonight in the warmth of my down coat, mittens and warm car to buy hand warmers.  I often complain about the cold, but I have the needed resources to protect myself.  Stay warm.