Cold Mornings

Awakening to days whose foggy mornings 

bow to the dark hoofs of the midnight horse.

Covering myself in thick blankets, attempting to

divert the cold that

extends itself through my muscles and bones, its

frequency jarring my joy,

grating against my skin. Softness

hidden now, how will 

I walk again? 

Jarred as I am, when will I 

know I’ll never be

left alone again, not just forgotten, not left all on

my own,

not cold, I crave a deeper warmth. 

Over the ground,

pedals cracking through icy green, 

quickly emerging from the shadows, up the hills, just 

reaching,

searching for the sun.

Triumphing over every small pain,

unable to let go and be broken, instead letting the constant 

velocity hurtle me through the cold mornings. 

Wading through reasons to smile,

x-ing out the parts that don’t make sense, but 

yearning to pedal fast enough,

zealously enough to stay warm against this creeping frost.