The Cold

The chill in the air takes on my warmth.
The two battle and my sniffles sound as a war cry.

The leaves fall and I brush them aside careful not to crush their delicate fabric.
It's a game we play. The leaves and I.

The cold rings my memory bell and chimes childhood laughter.
Hot tea, warm soup, board games by the crackling fire.

Warm blankets handmade by Grandma, oozing chocolate chip cookies made by me!
Mom let me help. Mom let me eat cookie dough. Mom has chocolate on her nose! Te he he!

I hug Mom tight and lose myself in her warm embrace, her smell, her comforting heartbeat.
Thump Thump…. Thump Thump…. The orchestration of my growth.

“Let's light a candle.” says Mom. I ask why.
“Let's pretend there's a power outage!” says Mom. I say, “yes, yes!”
We play!

The cold drifts away in the presence of our laughter and we find ourselves warm.