Winter Clothes

Cold on the outside
and on the inside.
Covered, so
all is hidden.
Hiding the lifeless
from the lifeless.
Bitter, sharp, frigid.
Not feeling a thing.

Cocooned, barely
enough room
to move,
to breathe.
Slap you across
the face winds.
Not feeling a thing.

Gray sky,
gray mind,
time stands still,
a day by day
kind of death.
Not feeling a thing.

Winter clothes will
shed if spring comes
to resurrect you.