The winter weather wears my skin,
Its bitter bite exhausts me
All life is strained by its pull,
A chandelier on the ceiling
Beautiful,
serene but heavy,
Impractical and…
Unnecessary
It pulls us down,
in strength
And in spirit
But I am lucky, for my plight is temporary
The trees must endure, but I am exempt, for I have shelter
Inside the soup filling the rooms with the scent of a salty yet savory aroma
The soup bubbles in its pot, causing the contents to dance and bounce
The fire crackles underneath the metal of the pot, turning its bottom golden
The heat releases the weight of the cold cruel air that had brought burden on me And the stew will bring back what the mischievous air had stolen from me
My home frees me, its walls ward off the wandering winter wind