My poem Toasty Feet has been published by Violet Sky Magazine here: https://violetskyediting.wixsite.com/mysite
This poem was written after a trip I made to Chattanooga, TN in the Winter of 2016. It was the coldest part of Tennessee's winter, and I distinctly remember envying trees hardy enough to survive such a season, and still sway their limbs for morning breezes.
Freezing, inside and out, in need of some thawing out,
There’s a fire burning inside,
Burning low, steady. She
Wishes she was like those trees swaying in front of her,
Outside the window.
Used to all the elements—rain, sleet, snow or whatever.
No need of a coat, mittens, a scarf, rain boots, or a top hat,
Roots nuzzled deep in the ground.
They say Earth is real hot in the center.
And maybe that’s why they can stand there like that,
With toasty feet—roots, I mean,
Without nar’ a shiver in this cold, wet storm,
She thought and said aloud.
“Those damn tree roots ain’t warm,” he blurted,
And went on,
“Them trees just dormant—for the winter.
You sit out here long enough, and you’ll figure out
How to semi-die, too. Intentional, temporary suicide,”
He went on.