And moving with

a homeostatic trouble,

I found myself,

silently being bullied by

the cold, my breathe congealing,

even screaming

as all the life in it

had been beaten

and punched with discomfort

walking like cowardice,

my confidence had been

overthrown, at least for a while,

then I saw the road that led

towards home,

and the chilly made it long,

and my long for warmth

made it lengthy,

so I thought,

my face silently rebelled the cold,

but deep within I could

feel my loins freezing

she was not there to hold my hands,

and kissed them to warmth,

leaving no consolation,

they froze and the floating iciness

chased them even in my pockets

then I gathered brave

from the mysticity of persistence

and began to walk briskly

then the warmth came

and hugged me tight,

at least a little warmth

But my body was content,

because the sun was not

such a good solicitor

in this case.

                     By Kakraba Afful