Cold hands,

Cold hands,

With finger tips

Frozen to the bone.

Icicle digits,

Refusing to bend

Or twist,

Flexing, wringing

Making a fist,

As un-oiled joints, scream.

This is no way

To wake from a dream,

Scraping ice

From the windscreen.

Transparent skin,

Held against the light

From the morning glow.

As a bullet sun filters

Through falling snow,

You can see the blood flow,

Slowly, through veins

Close to collapse,

As they shrink and contract.

You need more than caffeine

To sharpen up,

Two shots, in an 8 ounce cup,

Plug yourself into the mains.

It is too cold for anti-freeze

The central heating

Comes direct

From a warm heart

But it is getting harder

To overcome inertia,

And maintain the beat,

Circulate heat,

For the early start.

Maybe it is time

To knock this on the head,

Give it all up,

And stay in bed,