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.