Winter

Winter

You know my favourite kind of weather?

When it’s finally cold enough to take out the radiator,

And go to sleep with heating pads at my feet.

I wake up when it’s still dark,

Wrapped up in my old dressing gown,

My hands nestled in the deep pockets.

The wind is strong in my face,

I drink it in,

& I push the window open a little more.

It’s like the smallest kind of happiness

I tuck into my sleeve and look at from time to time,

Only to sometimes find it pressed between

The pages of a good book.

• cold weather
• poem
• poetry
• winter