Beware the cold snap

As fall flies in with whirling leaf
A heavy heart may hoist its grief.
The season’s shiver shakes the bones
With marrow numbing undertones.

The weakest ones may swing to smite,
Recoiling as the most uptight.
So thoughtlessly, they ills entice.
It grows too late to break the ice.

Still woozy, stand we there to hold
Remaining ground, now frozen, cold.
But seasons pass, and so we stroll
To exercise our self-control.

A frost has come upon the air.
We wonder if we even care.
When fancies may run hot and cold,
Offenses may be best untold.
c2015 by Linda Ann Nickerson

This poem incorporates these blog prompts:

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 vintage - public domain

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