22 Below This Morning But Rising
Sun as bright as ice,
we think it must be nice.
but cold
like a bell dome,
clamps down,
we the clappers dangling
by breaths like wires wrangling
so many layers wrapped
that we trek loggily
glasses so foggily
that we can’t see through
to a view anyway
only the white and blue
of a planet that this clear day makes clear
wasn’t truly made
for our
whatever.
So,
trying to get back faster
than ever,
we find–
*********************
Another little ditty for Magaly Guerrero’s prompt on Real Toads about not trusting the cannibal. It was 22 below this morning but this pic is from last year (though similar frost appeared this morning –I just didn’t get a pic.) This has been edited slightly since first posting.
ManicDDaily 
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