A Shrug and A Cold Sholder

poetry

It was cold in that basement
colder than anything,
I could tell from my
frosted fingers,
Could see the smoke of
freezing breath
(I was told as a kid
it was my soul escaping)
and I
felt just like
I was going to die.

You were with me then,
and you assured me
there was nothing we
could do about it.

Then the ice grabbed me
and locked me and
my heart for an eon
it seems, and as I gauged
the passing seconds
I tried to cough the ice away
that was slowly stopping
my throat.

I think I heard you tell me
that you’d wait for the Spring Thaw.

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