Sweater Weather

A Poem by Lily Victoria

October 3, 2013

Something nips...
It bites my skin to the bone.
And caresses its way through the strands of my hair.

Chills run up and down my arms,
Waiting for some reaction.
This morning air is cold and crisp.
Declining with every dip it makes to the earth.

Now,
I see frost over the horizon.
Standing over a pond ready to arise.
But it stays still in the quiet dawn.

Am I still moving?
Or are my fingers still numb from cool typing?
I can't say anymore.

It's too cold for me here,
And all I can do is place my frigid,
White hands,
In the holes of this sweater.

Warmth in this crazy mixed weather.
Warmth in this oversized knitted sweater.

It's sweater weather.