Numb fingers and cracked
hands confront the icy rain.
The wind goes through my body
making fun of my layers.
Short gusts of breath float into the
air, the only warmth in my body
There’s a thirst for something hot
to drink. A desperate attempt
to reheat my guts.
Published by Jo McLaughlin
Jo is a media professional working in Massachusetts. She is the founder of Dilettante life, and the co-host of the podcast Dipstitch (dipstitch.net, available on Spotify and Apple podcasts). She enjoys writing for Dilettante Life observing life and sharing experiences.
View all posts by Jo McLaughlin