Prodded to Wake

Early winter morning
before the sun comes up,
the cold presses through
the panes of my
closed window,
presses through the bone
of my flesh and skin
covered skull,
pressing icy extensions
in through my brain
to my sinuses.

It can’t survive
just standing in the warmed air
in the room around me
or under my blankets with me.

I’m drawn out
from my cozy dreams
to chilled observance of
this path the cold does take
into me
by way of
my head, the window.

I’m awake.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

This poem is part of my #SHINEonline challenge commitment for 2 posts weekly; 1 of 2 for this week.

About Shari Smothers

Welcome to Telling Stories, my creative writing space. My name is Shari Smothers. Poems help me to understand the world and to explain my world to others. They're my premier story telling tools. There's more to come, so please share with me through reading, commenting, emailing. Learn more about Shari here. And do come again!

6 thoughts on “Prodded to Wake

  1. Well Morning Shari. I really love the way this poem unwound its self. you make the cold an almost beautiful intruder, I can see the perched on your bedpost, one ling finger lifting an eyelid, testing your wakefulness. great job, Sis!

  2. Good morning, sMichelle. I’m glad you liked it. The eyelid lifting is a funny thing. I had a cousin that would check like that to see if it was time to play. Thank you.

  3. Welcome, Susie! I’m glad you liked my cold poem. Thanks for letting me know.

  4. Your cold morning poem is such a nice observation of weather and feeling, Shari. I like the title a lot.

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