A Poem

I drag myself to the door: I must do this.

It is that time of the day. I Go.

Watch my two feet stepping frozen asphalt

labored breath rasps in my ears

eyes see only dismal grey winter sky

skin crinkling in the ragged frigid air

lungs seize up in brutal cold

and I say thank you.

I move

I hear

I see

I feel

I breathe

chanting thank you thank you

thank you.