poetry by j matthew waters

windchill minus seventeen

on the coldest of sundays
I read the paper in bed
sipping hibiscus tea
radio station streaming
top forty songs from 1972

though the sun shines brightly
casting diagonal rays
at my concealed feet
its perceived warmth is merely
an allusion of spring

sometimes I turn my head
and count cardinals
flying past the window
probably insanely curious
as to when I’ll make
my next move

february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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14 thoughts on “windchill minus seventeen

  1. Ileana on said:

    Te rog să ai o zi bună!

  2. These words took me back to Chicago where l lived 20 below cold.

  3. very enjoyable post 😀

  4. tunisiajolyn84 on said:

    Love the visual quality in this. I pictured the whole scene vividly and I know all about those deceptive sun rays during cold days.

  5. Ha.. we must look static to birds… love the image of seeing through the eyes of a cardinal.

  6. thefeatheredsleep on said:

    I was born in 72. Great choice! 😉

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