Day Four: Cruel January

Cruel January

Chattering teeth, frost-bitten toes,
whether we’ll freeze to death or not, nobody knows.

Take out the heavy coats, the knee-high boots,
watch the kids take for the snow in high pursuits.

Stay inside and read a book,
curl up on the couch with a thick, woolen quilt.

Sip your hot chocolate as the wind knocks at your shutters,
hope that next month things will be better.

Because surely, January is the cruelest month of them all.


Author: Savannah

dreamer. wordcrafter. child of the King.

15 thoughts on “Day Four: Cruel January”

  1. I feel like I contradicted myself in this poem, ha ha. The poet is trying to make a point of how cruel January can be, while also remembering those cozy times of curling up on the couch with a thick quilt and a good book. Obviously, this poem truly exemplifies my mixed feelings about winter. XD

    Liked by 2 people

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